Sarah Mac’s Reviews > My Sister's Shadow: A Novel > Status Update

This book is like The Luxe married a Victoria Holt novel. It’s entertaining but too predictable, & the romance is uber-insta; Addy has better chemistry with her friend Wiffy than Jack, so that’s a glaring issue for m/f HEA. 🫢 The prose is uneven, often slipping into a more modern rhythm or expression (e.g. “your plus-one” 🙄). Overall, a junk food gothic—I’ve read way worse, but also way better.

‘My outing had opened my eyes to a new possibility. That I wasn’t stupid or sullen, & my nerves weren’t weak, that Victoria wasn’t better or braver or bolder than me. We were simply different. And that maybe some of those differences grew from always being in her shadow, being convinced that that was my place—in the shadow, never in the sunlight.’ ….Also, that you need to punch Victoria in the face.

‘There was a queer expression on her face, one I couldn’t interpret. She was clearly thinking more, but she just stared at the trees. It was one of those rare moments when everything stopped, just for a moment: a lull in the breeze, no motorcars, no birds, no sound at all. It was as if the entire world stopped. Ever so fleetingly.’

‘The night grew deeper, blacker. It was as if my head were underwater, my ears full & everything both dulled & too loud. The house seemed to scream its silence; it echoed off the walls, seeped through the cracks, & pinned me to the bed. Finally, I fell asleep in the heavy darkness to the sound of a rasping breathing that I felt was not my own.’

‘I adjusted my skirts & gazed up at the blank-faced house. It reminded me of a death photograph; something about it rang false—the body remained, but the spirit had departed.’

‘I had avoided all looking glasses since boarding the boat, instead seeking my reflection in Victoria’s cheerful countenance. The sight of myself was an assault. I opened the parasol & angled it toward the window to avoid meeting my own fraught eye again. It frightened me, that face. It was the face of a desperate woman.’

‘Victoria was possessed by the sensational. Penny dreadfuls were smuggled from the village on our monthly trips, & she devoured the tales of pirates, princesses, & murder, long into the dark night. She often acted out these stories for me, so effortless in her imitation of others. She could transform herself into anything, anyone, w/ merely a switch in tone, a flick of her eyelashes.’ ….Foreshadowing. 🧐

‘I had never wanted to live anywhere else except Harewood House, the family home that had shrouded our secrets for over two hundred years. This was where I belonged; this was home. Endless, dingy corridors; the smell of damp & mice in every corner; the threat of Father in wafts of tobacco & whiskey. Harewood lived & breathed for me, & I loved every flower, every blade of grass.’