Every week, my daughter Alyssa and I go to Barnes & Noble in Irvine. We usually eat dinner at Wood Ranch first, then we walk over and do our thing.
We each pick a book, go upstairs to Starbucks, read for a bit, then we ask the same question: “Are we buying this one?”
About half the time we do. The other half, we put it back and try something else.
One night, I picked up Mona’s Eyes. I read a few pages upstairs. I bought it. Then I did something I don’t always do. I read it with Alyssa out loud, back and forth, taking turns.
Reading the book together was a wonderful experience! We looked up words. We stopped and talked when something confused us. When we finished the book last weekend, I decided to write this because it kept making me think about the people I work with who are under a government investigation.
What the book is about
Mona’s Eyes is about a ten-year-old girl, Mona, who has a scary episode where she temporarily loses her sight. The doctors can’t give a clean answer. The family is left with the question nobody wants to say out loud: what if it happens again?
Mona’s grandfather, Dadé, steps in with a plan. Once a week, every Wednesday, he takes Mona to see one work of art. One piece, one visit, every week.
They start with Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring—a girl turning to look at you, caught in a moment. Then Rodin’s The Thinker, hunched and heavy with thought. Later they stand in front of Picasso’s Guernica, which is about war and chaos but also about what survives after. They see Monet’s water lilies, which Dadé explains Monet painted while going blind himself. They look at Frida Kahlo’s self-portraits, where pain is right on the surface but so is defiance.
The book moves through these visits as Mona and Dadé stand in front of each piece and talk. Sometimes they talk about the art itself—the brushstrokes, the history, why the artist made certain choices. Sometimes the piece opens the door to bigger questions about fear, endurance, and how people survive hard chapters.
The visits don’t escalate or surprise you. They repeat. And that repetition is doing the work.
The book ends without a medical miracle. Mona’s sight hasn’t failed again, but there’s no guarantee it won’t. The doctor visits taper off. Life continues. But something has shifted. Mona isn’t frozen by the fear anymore. She’s steadier. Not because the threat disappeared, but because Dadé gave her a way to live while carrying it.
Why this matters if you’re in a government investigation
A government investigation changes how you live.
I’ve watched people who were calm and capable turn into someone else once the case starts. Their world gets smaller. Their week turns into phone calls, emails, rumors, and worry. The case becomes the lens for everything. Work, family, sleep, money, friendships.
That shrinking is what Mona’s Eyes puts on the page. Mona is a kid, so her fear looks different, but the trap is the same. When you feel unsafe, you stare at the threat and stop noticing everything else.
Your mind will narrow on its own. If you don’t push back, it will keep narrowing.
What I learned that applies to you: Your mind will replay the same scene
People under a government investigation describe the same loop:
- “What’s going to happen to me?”
- “What if they charge me?”
- “What if the media gets it?”
- “What if my spouse finds out more than they already know?”
- “What if my lawyer is missing something?”
It’s exhausting. It also feels like you’re staying alert, which makes it seductive. But after a while it’s just a habit you can’t turn off.
The Wednesdays in Mona’s Eyes interrupt that habit. The book keeps putting Mona in front of something outside her fear. Not as a distraction. As a reset.
If you’re in that loop right now, you need an interruption too. Not a vacation. Not a binge-watch. Something that changes what your attention is doing.
One day a week changes the other six
Dadé’s plan works because it’s consistent. Same day. Same rhythm. One piece. One conversation. Then life continues until next Wednesday.
Pick one day a week and protect it.
On that day, do the work most people avoid until it’s too late:
- Write a timeline of events and attach documents you have already created. Share them, whether you get good or bad feedback.
- Draft your narrative in your own voice, not generic boilerplate language.
- List the people you want letters from and give them bullet points so they don’t write nonsense that hurts, rather than helps you.
- If alcohol, gambling, pills, or ego played any role, learn how to use these as mitigating factors.
If you don’t do those things, you will stay stuck waiting. Waiting feels safe. It isn’t.
Choose support that makes you sharper, not calmer
Dadé can be a lot. He’s loving, but he’s intense. He pushes. He decides. He doesn’t let Mona’s fear steer the day.
Too many people under a government investigation choose the wrong support system. They choose whoever makes them feel better for five minutes. They don’t choose the person who helps them stay on track and focused on their values.
You need at least one person in your corner who can ask:
- What are you leaving out because it makes you look bad?
- What are you doing this week that improves your situation?
- What’s the next uncomfortable task you keep avoiding?
Not to shame you. To keep you from lying to yourself, as I did.
“Seeing” is attention
The book is filled with moments where Mona stands in front of something and looks longer than she wants to. That’s the lesson. Not art trivia. Attention.
When you’re under a government investigation, attention collapses first. You stop seeing your life accurately. You make decisions based on what reduces anxiety today, not what protects or helps you tomorrow.
Attention can be trained. It can also be wasted. If all your attention goes into fear, you’ll miss the obvious steps right in front of you.
What I’m taking from this
On the personal side, my routine with Alyssa forces me to slow down and be there with her. Dinner at Wood Ranch. A walk. A book. Time that doesn’t get swallowed by my phone.
On the work side, I see this pattern constantly: the case tries to take over your entire week, and if you let it, you start living like you’re already finished.
Build one weekly block of time that forces you to widen your view and handle what you’ve been avoiding. If you do that for ten weeks straight, you’ll be in a different place than the person who spent ten weeks refreshing email and replaying the same fears, as I did so so so so long ago!
A few things worth saying
People ask me if they should read this book while they’re under a government investigation. I think so, but not for inspiration. Read it for the lessons. The weekly rhythm is the point.
If you’re overwhelmed right now, don’t try to overhaul your entire life. Pick one hour. Same day every week. Do one task that moves your life forward—timeline, narrative, letter outreach, volunteering, your health. Then stop. Do it again next Wednesday, like Mona!
Thank you for reading my book review!
Justin Paperny
