About as bog standard as a domestic thriller can get! You know the drill: "Hi, my name is [insert name here]. My life is perfect, except for this thing I did in my past, which I'm not actually going to tell you about, but myself and other characters will refer to it constantly." Of course, the secret is never as awful as the main character seems to think it is, and the reader ends up wondering what all the bloody fuss was about.
The main character this time is Ava, and she still harbours enormous guilt over the events of a party thirteen years ago. (We get snippets of that party dropped to us throughout the book.) Every year, on the anniversary of the event, Ava has been receiving a blackened rose to remind her of "what she did" (note: she didn't actually do anything.) Why has Ava never gone to the police about this? IN THIRTEEN BLOODY YEARS???? It's one of many silly, incredulous moments in this predictable, by-the-numbers effort.
Ava is about is head to New York to be with her fiance, Ben. Her best friend, Lena, who was also at that party and knows what happened, is throwing her a going away party. It's clear that Lena has a bit of a desperate, clingy attachment to Ava, but nonetheless wants the party to go off without a hitch. But that proves difficult, because blackened roses are showing up all over the place, making it clear that whoever has it in for Ava is now at the party.
It's an interesting synopsis, as is the fact that the story takes place over a single night. But you can really feel the padding in an already relatively short book. A fairly distinct pattern emerges. Ava will find a blackened rose and freak out. Lena or someone else will tell her to calm down and enjoy the party. Lena will beg Ava to let her come to New York with her. Ava will feel guilt over what she did at that party thirteen years ago (note: she didn't do anything.) Ava will worry about her relationship with Ben. Lena will bicker with Ava's sister, Martha. Rinse and repeat.
The biggest problem is that the book requires Ava to be a complete and utter numbskull in order for the story to work. It's clear to everyone except her that Lena is clingy and manipulative. Ava worries and worries that her relationship with Ben is in trouble because he hasn't arrived yet. She doesn't know his number - fair enough, I don't know my partner's number off the top of my head. But her mother does, but for some reason she doesn't call her mother because her mother's at dinner! What the actual hell?
It builds up to revelations that you saw coming from a mile away, including the fact that Ava never actually really did anything at the party thirteen years ago. So what's with the all the guilt and recrimination and not being able to tell anybody about the roses for over a decade? The whole premise is built on Ava not taking the most obvious actions that anybody with half a brain would take. Sure, willing suspension of disbelief is key in any thriller, but somebody being THAT stupid for THAT long goes beyond that limit for me!
This ticks every necessary box in the check-list of a lazy domestic thriller. Possibly unreliable narrator? Check! White woman with a secret she bangs on about endlessly but doesn't say what it is? Check! Protagonist is a neurotic nitwit? Check! Chapters set in the past to slowly reveal what awful thing happened? Check! Awful thing isn't all that awful and possibly doesn't need to be a secret at all? Check, check, check! Ding, ding, ding!
Like any bad party, a few hits of alcohol might be needed if you intend to see this one through to the end! For a much better thriller involving a party with sinister events occurring over the course of one night, try "The Invitation" by Diane Hoh. It's a YA thriller from the 90s, but it's much better than this dross!