Gut- Wrenching
Rounded up because some books matter more than they “entertain.”
This was such a heavy read—not because of the writing, but because of the brutal honesty and rawness of the topic. It made me feel deeply uncomfortable, but I kept asking myself: is it because of the content, or because I don’t want to face the reality of the toxic world we live in? I decided to finish it, to face it head-on, because the least I can do is understand and stand with the victims, even if only in words.
Paul Sussman tackled women trafficking and the monstrous cruelty of wealthy, corrupted people hiding behind big names. The reality of children being abused, stripped of their dignity, and treated worse than animals was devastating to read. The story of the father who abused his own daughter was so vile it made me feel sick—it’s unthinkable that the person meant to protect you is the very one you need protection from.
The narrative itself was brilliant, as always with Sussman. I love the flawed but compelling duo of detectives, their pain, personal struggles, and sense of justice that feels real and unpolished. The scenes describing fear—like Youssef’s descent into madness inside the labyrinth—were so vivid that I could feel his claustrophobia and spiraling mind. The moral dilemmas were powerful too—Ben’s struggle between doing the right thing and protecting those he loves felt painfully human.
What broke me was Ben’s death. I adored this fiery, sarcastic detective, and losing him was like losing a friend. It was heartbreaking, but also realistic in its own cruel way. The love story between the blind girl and the masked man was equally tragic, a reminder of how society’s shallow judgment can destroy pure love.
The book is also a sharp critique of global corruption, showing how power and greed poison every system. It’s painful but eye-opening, and despite all the darkness, Sussman’s storytelling reminds me that the good in the world still exists, even if it’s often overshadowed by the ugly.