An intricate thriller, this novel wasn’t what I expected, and as someone who believes that they can sniff out twists and turns, I did not see its ending coming.
The lake swallows me in a scramble of cramping muscles and weeds. I flail, gasp swallow thrash; bubbles jet through water, a string of crystal balls to the past I reach to catch.
The story flashes from past to present, showing how he trained her to commit petty crimes, and how those crimes have impacted her. Throughout the novel, she reconnects with people from her past to uncover secrets she didn’t even know existed.
Art fades into the gloom, music can no longer be heard. The players become ghosts on a dim stage. Words separate from their meaning and books are useless objects…
I love a good first-person novel, and in this one, we follow the troubled Hannah as she navigates the loss of her fiancé. Hannah’s friend, Tess, suggests an unplugged wellness retreat in the desert, and gathers their friends together to make this retreat extra special.
My parents viewed the Dhaka-Chattogram highway as a lawless river of steel. Their solution was to ride the intercity bus — a massive, multi-ton behemoth that felt like a rolling castle. Inside, we felt insulated from the chaos.