My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

… it happened again. A weird, crawling sensation, like a bony hand running up my spine… A strange, shivery feeling, that had nothing to do with being cold. A feeling of unease, so intense that it was almost a physical sensation. This morning it had come and gone in a flash, and I’d put it down to being in that odd, semi-awake state but now, as I leaned against the kitchen counter, it stayed, first that shiver up my back, then a sense that something was trying to wriggle its way into my consciousness, a voice far, far too tiny for me to hear trying to make itself audible. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, trying to listen, but just as quickly as it had arrived, the feeling was fading again, and then it was gone.

He’s just an idiot boy, Mum. Sienna can be a bit bratty but he’s so horrible to her. Can’t you send him away to boarding school or something? You know, like those old-fashioned ones in films where the teachers will hit him with sticks and make him eat slugs for dinner?

I didn’t realize I was probably a psychopath until I went to university. I’d always known I was a little bit different to other kids I knew, never really had close friends growing up. But I didn’t realize I was that different until I started at Northampton Uni, doing my English and Psychology degree, and there it suddenly was one day, on the big screen in front of me in a crowded lecture theatre –a checklist of psychopathic personality traits. A checklist of my personality traits. … not a sociopath – they were messier creatures, emotionally unstable, impulsive, lacking in patience. Psychopaths make fewer mistakes. I looked down on sociopaths, and even as I realized this I was amused by it. It was a bit like an alcoholic looking down on a drug addict, wasn’t it?

 My Review:

This was a book of multiples – multiple POVs, multiple suspects, multiple twists and misdirections, multiple liars committing multiple selfish and consciously deceitful acts. Any tale involving the death of a child will undoubtedly be a heart squeezer whether the fatality was accidental or something more heinous, and I was back and forth in my theories of which type of act resulted in the death of eight-month-old Zander.

So many secrets were swirling and compounding the issues.   The characters were first presented in a singular dimension with all fingers pointing toward the mother, whose shock and overindulgence of alcohol had blanked her memories of the day.   But as the trial date approached, odd pricklings of recall were itching at her brain, were they real or wishful thinking? And the myriad other characters were not at all trustworthy and were all rather vile creatures.

The premise was heartbreaking while the characters were all deeply flawed and tainted with duplicity yet oddly compelling and continually pricking at my curiosity. The storylines were slowly paced and tense in tone, full of angst, despair, regret, guilt, anger, and anxiety while compelling and craftily hinting at undercurrents of subterfuge and deception. I was taut with tension and biting my cuticles as my hypotheses bounced among the various suspects, and while I was partly correct I would never have put it all together or as cleverly as this cringe-worthy conclusion.   This was my first experience reading the well-crafted words of Jackie Kabler and I am kicking myself for not noticing her prior works, she’s got mad word skillz!