Date: March 6, 2025
Author: Ashley Audrain
Genre: psychological thriller
Woooowwwww… Brava Ms. Ashley Audrain! I am at page 60 and I am officially hooked! I believe the fundamental idea behind this plot is to delve into the psyche of someone whom has grown up knowing abuse and how, as an adult, she is the one now abusing her own daughter. Quite reminiscent of her mum. And her mum’s mum. And maybe even her mum’s mum’s mum? Possibly an exploration of the concept nature versus nurture?
I made it past the halfway point and I had to put the book aside as the material was very dark. I really do like how Mz. Audrain crafts a story, and this one does prove that even serial killers were once children.
So, what happened was the mum was having to come to terms with the fact that she just witnessed her own child commit not only one murder in cold blood, but two murders? No wonder the mum was terrified of her own little girl. (Yikes!) But really. Could it possibly be? Could the mum really have just seen her daughter’s pink mittened hand reach out to push her little brother’s stroller into the street in front of that big SUV? It certainly did look like it.
And with the first dead kid, the mum had then also wondered to herself: self? Did I really just see that? I couldn’t have, self confirmed. It was weird to the mum though because between her and herself it really had looked like her daughter’s foot shot out real quick at the exact same time the little boy tripped forward, diving headfirst from atop the playground equipment. Reality says yes that the daughter was responsible both times. However, denial confirms she must have been trippin.’ So the mum proceeds to turn her head the other way, like that could erase facts and make her very guilty daughter be very innocent. The heartache didn’t end there for the mum either. Shortly after the little boy died the mum’s marriage completely disintegrated in a very, very, sad way. And still, it gets darker yet, when Mz. Audrain introduces the scene where the mum was, herself, a little girl, praying for her own mother’s death. That was the final straw for me.
I’m not saying not to read this. But I am saying this was not my cup of tea.