There are three sides to every story: his, hers, and the truth.
A BBC lunchtime news TV presenter and a chief police officer—let’s rephrase that as DCI—find themselves tangled in a series of brutal murders of women who share a common past. They all graduated from the same high school and went on to live very different lives in Blackwood. Each corpse is discovered with a friendship bracelet carefully placed beside it.
So what is the connection between these two people and the victims?
DCI Jack Harper was with the first victim on the night of her murder—having sex with her. There are countless clues pointing in his direction, including his size-10 shoes and the victim’s cellphone, which he inexplicably carries with him. Was he framed, or was he involved in her death?
And what about Anna Andrews? She’s struggling with the sudden death of her baby two years earlier, crushing loneliness, and alcoholism following her divorce. Now she’s lost her dream job after an ambitious reporter returns from maternity leave and takes her place. Anna was a school friend of all the victims, and through her narration of the past, we learn that her relationships with them were far from harmonious.
Then there’s Priya, the newly recruited police officer. Why is she trying so hard to please Jack? Why is she hiding things from him? Does she have a secret agenda?
Jack tells his story. Anna tells hers. And yes—we also get the killer’s point of view. Interestingly, the killer’s narration shares striking similarities with both Jack’s and Anna’s voices. Is the author deliberately messing with our minds? Absolutely—because she’s smarter than we are. I can practically imagine her laughing as I bit my nails and nearly hit my forehead against the wall trying to figure out who the murderer was!
So who is telling the truth? Are the narrators deceitful? Possibly. But one thing is certain: the killer always tells the truth.
You know those books that hook you completely—glued to your hands, consuming your mind and soul—where you barely breathe or function until you finish? And yet, at the same time, you desperately wish it would never end because the adrenaline, excitement, and endorphins are intoxicating? You want more. Then you reach the final chapter and start punching the wall because it’s almost over. You know you’re going to love the ending, and suddenly every other book you’ve read feels pale and meaningless by comparison.
Yes—that’s exactly how I felt after finishing this one.
This is one of my special reads of the year. I know I’ve given nearly ten thrillers five stars, but if I could give this one six stars just to set it apart, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second.
I won’t give you any more clues and ruin your reading experience. The last time I spoiled too much for my buddy readers, someone somehow stole my unique Chardonnay bottles and replaced them with apple cider. I don’t know how that was even possible during quarantine, and I refuse to risk it again. I need my booze—and more books—during these terrible days.
I’m sending my witchy powers your way so you can get your ARC copy. And if you can’t, please pre-order it, check your local library, or befriend the Amazon Prime crew—do whatever it takes to read this as soon as possible. It’s absolutely worth it.
I’ve now read all three of Alice Feeney’s novels, and this is officially my favorite.
Special thanks to NetGalley and Flatiron Books for sharing one of the best ARCs I’ve read this year in exchange for my honest review