Every afternoon, Eleanor settles into her yellow chair beside the window. The beach below is her last connection to a world she no longer belongs to ? the laughter of children, the crash of waves, the slow parade of strangers living lives she'll never touch. She is eighty-three, mostly forgotten, and comfortable with her quiet solitude. Then one morning, she sees a man die on the sand. Not from illness or accident. A man approaches another. A brief struggle. A blade. And then the killer walks calmly away, leaving nothing behind but a crumpled body and a receding tide. Eleanor reports what she saw. But she is old. Her eyesight is questioned. Her memory doubted. No body washes ashore. No missing person is reported. The police thank her politely and close the matter as a mistaken witness, but Eleanor knows what she saw. And the killer knows she was watching. As small threats begin to appear ? a strange knock at her door, a shadow on the beach at odd hours ? Eleanor realizes that justice will not come from the system. If she wants to stop a murderer, she will have to do it herself. Armed only with her memory, her stubbornness, and that yellow chair by the window, she sets a trap that only someone with nothing left to lose would dare. A Yellow Chair Next to a Window is a gripping, tender thriller about aging, courage, and the power of bearing witness when no one else will.