I was struck by an urge to re-read immediately after putting it down because it is one of those rare stories where every line, and every word, carries weight. As skilled as Larocca is at subtlety, and conveying his characters feelings and intentions without necessarily stating them explicitly, he proves to be equally adept at making the reader uncomfortable, and the books ending is equal parts memorable, upsetting and horrifyingly surreal.īy the books close, answers are not forthcoming beyond those that we were given right from page one. Things escalate fairly rapidly once Agnes feels more comfortable with Zoe, and things build to a horrifying crescendo, replete with some pretty gnarly and unpleasant body horror. Zoe, on the other hand, remains something of an enigma, even as the story progresses and while we learn a lot about Agnes, her upbringing and her life in general throughout the book, most of what we learn about Zoe is inferred and not explicit, knowing what we do by her actions and by reading between the lines, and not what she tells Agnes. Agnes seems almost desperate to share private details about her life, freely telling very personal stories with very little encouragement. It is an understated and low-key start, but the brilliance of this novella is how insidiously the stakes build and the escalation slowly creeps up on you.
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