A mother and daughter disappear in the midst of a custody dispute, leaving behind indications that they left on purpose -- and that they didn't. A young journalism intern, Carrie Green, gets caught up in trying to find out what's happened to them. She astounds her editor by developing a rapport with the father of the missing girl even though no one else can stand him. Then she and her boyfriend infiltrate two opposing illegal networks, both of which seem to be connected to the case. And suddenly it starts to dawn on the young reporter that she’s been believing all the wrong people...
Lundy clearly knows his domestic violence stuff from his bestselling non-fiction work he has written. It’s a gripping read with great dialogue and good character development. I look forward to reading more of his fiction work.
So I usually don’t read mystery/detective books since normal life is complicated and confusing enough, but I’m such a fan of Lundy Bancroft that I read it anyways. I did start off the book by flipping right to the back and finding out the ending. The beginning felt a little slow for me, but by the middle is was a real page turner, even when I already knew the ending. The book is entertaining and does a fabulous job of showing how the family courts are perhaps some of Americas biggest enablers of intimate partner violence and child abuse. I feel like this is important info for any person who could get pregnant. I look forward to more Fiction from this author!
In Custody is one of those rare thrillers that doesn’t rely on exaggerated shocks or artificial drama. Instead, the tension rises slowly, almost invisibly, until you realize you’re fully entangled in the emotional chaos of these characters. What makes it so powerful is how believable everyone feels. From Lauren’s exhausted fear to Kelly’s aggressive certainty to the police officers’ mixture of authority and insecurity, each character carries a recognizable human truth.
The early chapters do an amazing job establishing ordinary stresses reactions that at first seem small or understandable which later expand into a crisis fueled by misunderstanding, desperation, and genuine terror. That slow evolution mirrors real family crises, where problems rarely arrive fully formed but instead grow from a hundred tiny moments of misconnection.
Carrie Green is a standout. Her blend of impulsiveness, curiosity, and moral seriousness gives the novel a refreshing viewpoint. She makes mistakes, she jumps to conclusions, she pushes herself into danger and all of it feels authentic for a young journalist trying to prove herself. Her chapters bring energy and tension every time they appear.
What ultimately makes this book so memorable is the empathy behind the writing. Lundy Bancroft doesn’t flatten anyone into a villain or a hero. Every character has reasons, fears, and blind spots, and the story explores how those collide under pressure. It’s a gripping thriller, but it’s also a deeply human portrait of how fragile trust can be. I truly enjoyed it.
This novel impressed me with how carefully it balances suspense and emotional realism. Rather than leaning on sensational twists, it grounds everything in the messy, complicated dynamics of a custody dispute. The author’s background shows the psychological insight into fear, guilt, blame, and projection is consistently sharp and deeply engaging.
The tension builds from very human interactions: misheard sentences, emotional assumptions, protective instincts, and the panic that rises when people feel unheard. What begins as a routine police encounter grows into a layered crisis shaped not by evil intentions but by the weight of accumulated anxiety. That’s what makes it so gripping: it feels like something that could happen to people you know.
The shifting perspectives are handled masterfully. Watching the same events unfold through the eyes of officers, friends, and a struggling family gives the story a rich texture. You see how each character interprets danger differently and how those interpretations push the situation toward a point of no return.
This book is not loud or melodramatic. It’s subtle, patient, and deeply thoughtful. Its power comes from emotional authenticity, and the result is a thriller that stays with you long after the final page. Highly recommended for readers who appreciate depth in their suspense.
What I loved most about In Custody is its psychological detail. This isn’t a book that rushes toward a kidnapping or a dramatic crime; instead, it shows how fear grows, how people misread each other, and how systems like law enforcement and family court often respond imperfectly under pressure. That realism makes the suspense exponentially more powerful.
Lauren’s vulnerability is written with such sensitivity that it becomes impossible not to empathize with her situation. Brandi’s chapters, meanwhile, quietly show how even supportive friends struggle under the weight of confusion and conflicting loyalties. Sofia and the officers add another layer, illustrating how institutions often get caught between responsibility and uncertainty.
Carrie Green is a brilliant narrative choice. Her inexperience, boldness, and instinctive empathy bring the investigation to life in ways that feel both unpredictable and believable. She’s flawed, curious, and driven by a genuine desire to help and those qualities give the story a beating heart.
This book is more than a thriller. It’s a character study, a social commentary, and a deeply emotional exploration of how adults’ choices shape the lives of children. Thoughtful, tense, and beautifully written.
This is not a thriller that throws explosions at you. Instead, it does something much harder: it builds tension from human behavior. The anxiety, the shifting loyalties, the misunderstandings, the moments of impulsive judgment, all of these come together to form a crisis that feels heartbreakingly possible.
What makes the book exceptional is its refusal to simplify the characters. Every person in this story is navigating fear in their own way. Kelly’s anger, Sofia’s moral conflict, Lauren’s desperation, and Brandi’s loyalty all collide, creating a situation where every choice feels consequential. The author handles these emotional complexities with a steady, mature voice.
The chapters involving the police are especially strong. They depict officers not as perfect heroes or corrupt villains but as flawed, busy people who sometimes act too quickly, sometimes not quickly enough, and sometimes miss what is right in front of them. That realism makes the story resonate.
By the time the plot reaches its peak, the emotional stakes feel enormous. This is a book that builds slowly but ends powerfully the kind of story you think about long after finishing.
In Custody is a deeply unsettling and absorbing novel that explores how quickly ordinary systems can become dangerous when power, bias, and fear intersect. What begins as a missing-person situation slowly reveals layers of misunderstanding, assumption, and institutional momentum that are almost impossible to stop once they’re in motion. The pacing is deliberate, but never dull; instead, it allows the tension to grow naturally as each character responds according to their own limitations and beliefs. I was struck by how realistic the situations felt nothing here seemed exaggerated for drama’s sake. By the end, the novel left me uneasy, reflective, and thinking about how easily truth can be buried beneath procedure.
This is not a book you read for comfort. In Custody challenges the reader to sit with ambiguity, frustration, and moral complexity. The characters are flawed in believable ways, and the story avoids offering simple explanations or easy resolutions. I appreciated how the author allows events to unfold organically, showing how small decisions and assumptions can escalate into devastating consequences. The emotional weight builds quietly, and by the end I felt shaken not by spectacle, but by recognition. This novel feels grounded in real life, which makes it far more powerful than a conventional thriller.
In Custody is a gripping psychological novel that examines how quickly assumptions can harden into truth once authority becomes involved. What begins as a seemingly routine custody concern slowly unravels into a tense, emotionally complex situation shaped by bias, ego, fear, and institutional momentum. Bancroft’s strength lies in his ability to show how damage is often done not by villains, but by ordinary people convinced they are doing the right thing. The characters feel painfully real, and the story left me unsettled in a way that lingered well after I finished reading.
This novel is deceptively quiet at first, but the tension builds steadily and relentlessly. In Custody explores the collision between personal lives and powerful systems policing, courts, media and how those systems can distort reality once they lock onto a narrative. I was especially struck by how perspectives shift from chapter to chapter, revealing how incomplete information and personal bias shape each character’s version of events. Bancroft doesn’t offer easy answers, which makes the book feel honest and deeply human.
This story shines because no one is perfect. Kelly’s fury, Lauren’s fear, Sofia’s guilt, Carrie’s impulsiveness they all feel painfully human. Even the police officers, with their egos and blind spots, are written with uncomfortable accuracy. Carrie, especially, is such an unexpectedly brilliant character. She’s naïve, scrappy, and deeply flawed, but her determination makes her unforgettable. Her chapters feel electric. The world-building is grounded, gritty, and completely believable.
In Custody starts with what looks like a routine police interaction but very quickly becomes a gripping psychological unraveling. What I loved most is that Lundy Bancroft doesn’t rush anything. He gives you time to sink into these characters’ flaws, fears, and messy loyalties. By the time Lauren and her daughter disappear, you’re already invested in everyone: the worn down cop, the girl trying to break into journalism, the terrified father, and the friend who’s lying through her teeth to protect someone she loves. The tension rises in such a natural, believable way that when things finally break open, it hits with real emotional force. I felt every twist.