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Over four weeks leading up to publication, PEOPLE is running exclusive serial excerpts from bestselling Irish novelist John Boyne’s The Elements
Read the third excerpt below
The Elements arrives on shelves Sept. 9 from Henry Holt and Company

If you missed PEOPLE’s first exclusive excerpt from John Boyne’s The Elements, read it here. Check out the second exclusive excerpt here.

FIRE

When we arrive at my building, I pull into my spot and turn the engine off.

“I’ll wait here, will I?” asks Rufus.

“No, come upstairs,” I tell him. “It can be dangerous sitting in car parks on your own. I don’t want to be responsible for a 14-year-old boy getting kidnapped.”

He seems anxious but follows me towards the lift. I can tell that he’s regretting having accepted my offer of a lift, but he’s here now and too fearful to say that he wants to go home. We ascend the building, and I lead him towards my apartment, unlocking the door and standing back to allow him to enter first.

“This is really nice,” he tells me as he makes his way over to the other side of the room, where glass doors open on to a balcony that faces an identical building opposite.

“Thanks,” I say. “Do you like music?”

“I guess.”

I tell Siri to play a song that relaxes me, a ballad, and he listens for a moment.

“I’m learning piano,” he tells me.

“Oh yes? And how’s that going?”

“It’s ok,” he replies, blushing, as if he already regrets revealing any detail about his life. “I should probably get home though.”

“Why? No one’s expecting you, are they? You said your mother’s going out.”

“I know, but —”

“No, you’re right. I’ve already taken up enough of your time. Although I am a bit thirsty. I might just grab a quick drink. Would you like one? I’m pretty sure I have a Coke in the fridge.”

Author John Boyne.

Rich Galligan

I don’t go to the kitchen just yet. Instead, I walk towards him. His skin is remarkably clear. I can tell he’s the sort of boy who isn’t going to be cursed by acne and wonder what he’ll look like when he’s older. He’s blameless now, almost angelic. But it’s only a matter of time before he recognizes his power to destroy girls in pursuit of what he wants. Right now, some innocent 12-year-old girl is lying on her bed in London, plaiting the hair of her dolls, looking up at the fairy lights that brighten her room or the luminous stars on her ceiling, completely oblivious to the fact that, one day, she’ll be one of his victims. Because boys take whatever they want, when they want it.

“Let me get you that Coke,” I say.

“It’s ok,” he says, glancing towards the door, but I shake my head and make my way into the kitchen, taking a can from the fridge and shaking it vigorously before returning to the living room and handing it to him. He looks at it as if there’s nothing he wants less but it’s in his hands now, so he has no choice but to open it.

When he does, of course it explodes, and his T- shirt is soaked immediately. He cries out in dismay before dropping the can on a side table. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, as if it’s his fault that this has happened and not mine.

‘The Elements’ by John Boyne.

Henry Holt and Company

“Don’t worry,” I say, stepping towards him. “Accidents happen. But look at you, you’re drenched!” He peels the polyester fabric away from his skin but when he lets it go, it attaches itself to him again. “You can’t wear it home like that. Take it off and I’ll put it on a quick wash and dry for you. It won’t take long.”

His expression changes to one of pure terror. The last thing he wants to do is remove his shirt.

“It’s ok,” he says.

“No, take it off,” I insist, reaching down and lifting it from the base, like a mother undressing a toddler, before pulling it higher. He lifts his arms, and I remove it, bringing it into the kitchen where I simply toss it on the floor. I have absolutely no intention of doing his laundry; I’m not his servant. When I return, he’s wrapped his arms around his pale, white chest in embarrassment and is looking down at the floor.

I come closer.

“Look at you,” I say. “All sticky.” I press my index finger to his sternum before drawing it slowly down towards his navel. “You know what you need?”

“What?” he whispers, his voice cracking in a single syllable.

“A shower.”

“I’m fine,” he tells me, shaking his head quickly. 

“You’re not fine,” I reply. “What kind of person would I be if I sent you home like this? Some kind of monster.”

I step even closer to him now and our eyes meet. I can feel his tension, his fear, his desire, his confusion. It’s a combination that intoxicates me. I lower my voice, almost whispering. 

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“You’re very shy, aren’t you?” I say. “Boys your age are usually so overconfident. It’s good to meet one who isn’t.”

Gently, I place the flat of my right hand against his chest.

“Don’t be nervous,” I say, taking his hand now as I lead him towards the bathroom. “You can trust me. I’m a doctor.”

Excerpted from THE ELEMENTS: A Novel by John Boyne. Published by Henry Holt and Company, September 9th 2025. Copyright © 2025 by John Boyne. All rights reserved.

The Elements by John Boyne arrives Sept. 9, and is available for preorder now, wherever books are sold.