Thank you to NetGalley and Recorded Books for providing me with an ARC of this audiobook in exchange for an honest review.
I haven’t heard of this author before now, but it sounded like such a great premise. Anyone who has watched American society for the last few decades is well aware that boys and girls are treated differently, and that crime in young men is often excused away as ‘boys will be boys.’ If you don’t think this is true, just refer to the consequences that Brock Turner got for the rape of an unconscious Chanel Miller, after being interrupted in the act by two grad students. For three felony rape charges, he was sentenced to six months in jail but was released after three months because of good behavior and the sentence length was disputed because he didn’t have a criminal record and was a swimmer with potential.
With that in mind, I started this read. I tend to like mysteries and thrillers that are more realistic, and it really seemed like this story would have the potential to spark discussions within communities about what boys are able to get away with, while girls are the ones who frequently are targeted.
The audiobook is narrated by two people—Eva Kaminsky and Michael Crouch, who did an outstanding job with narration. Kaminsky made a convincing Abby, and I loved that Benjamin was given a different narrator, who perfectly captures the combination of indifference and caring of a teenager in both tone and manner of narration.
As a school counselor, I figured Abby would be more of a sympathetic character. She clearly cares about the students she works with, and seems to exhibit solid counseling behaviors—meeting the students where they are at, using silence, and even working outside of her office to put more reluctant students at ease. Like many other counselors, she went into the field out of a calling, and over the course of the book it is revealed that her older brother was convicted for a brutal and violent crime.
I had a really hard time with Abby’s character, as much as I went into this really expecting to identify with her since I worked as a mental health counselor and the academic programs for these two careers have a lot of overlap. However, I found her to be so gullible and meek that it made it hard for me to fully identify with her. It was easy to empathize with her fears about her son and the idea that sociopathy (or what we now call Antisocial Personality Disorder) has a genetic basis. This made sense to me, and there is so much that we’ve learned about the brain in recent decades, especially how many mental health disorders do have a genetic component, but there are also many other factors involved in the development of these disorders, including adverse childhood experiences such as neglect or trauma, abuse, as well as how these boys are being brought up and what they’re exposed to.
Abby’s fears about her son seem valid, if not a bit overblown. The part where I really struggled with her character is towards the end of the book, when she gullibly allows the son she is concerned about to be evaluated by professionals who have no business working with these two: her old professors from counseling school, including one that she had a crush on. When she didn’t like what the first professor said, she went to the other, yet counseling ethics are in place for a reason: it is unethical to work with people that you have an existing relationship with, since the connection can make it significantly harder to stay objective. Yet when it comes to Benjamin, her son, she’s just fine with having him see a non-practicing therapist for formal treatment who is overly invested in their family. Abby herself also sees this therapist, and no wonder things don’t go well.
Additionally, I had a hard time with the connection between Abby and her son. He’s clearly in the teen years where he spends as little time with his mother as possible, and for a mother who prides herself on being so aware of behaviors and counseling techniques, she seems pretty clueless. For the most part, she rolls with Benjamin’s resistance, but she clearly distrusts her son and things that she’s noticed make her much more concerned that he might also be like her brother—a violent criminal. While Benjamin demonstrates typical teen behavior, there is so much that Abby doesn’t know about his life and personality that it doesn’t necessarily even feel like he’s her son.
Besides the excessive hand-wringing and distrust and poor choices on Abby’s part, this book required a really high level of suspension of disbelief. It isn’t until the second half of the book, and especially the ending, that the believable, intriguing story was dissected to go off the rails and focus on a completely different tangent. I didn’t love the way things just got more and more unbelievable and unrealistic, and I wasn’t prepared to suspend that much belief.
Part of the appeal of reading mystery/thriller/suspense books is the plot twists that seem to come out of nowhere, and along the way, readers are given little breadcrumbs hinting at who the real villain is. I love when I’m blindsided by a plot twist and really have to work to guess at the villain. This book doesn’t quite have that. There are some plot twists that come out of nowhere, but I was so disappointed to be able to predict a good amount of the twists, and I had the villain nailed so early on. It was difficult to believe that Abby couldn’t see what was coming.
Overall, this was a read that held my attention for the day. It is a fast-paced story with short, snappy chapters and an eye towards discussing heavier themes like forgiveness, guilt, and the old nature-nurture debate. I didn’t dislike the read, but while organizing my thoughts I realized that there are some aspects that I didn’t care for. Aside from the fact that this story required a level of suspension of disbelief that I wasn’t prepared for. Someone commented on a previous review that they call these ‘popcorn books’ and it made perfect sense to me, as well as applying towards this book. It’s fun for the moment, but doesn’t take up space in my brain after I finish. At least the counseling was portrayed in a moderately reasonable and ethical way, on Abby’s part at least.