This gorgeously written book is both hopeful and horrifying. In a not-so-distant future, years of violence and economic struggles known collectively as The Crisis have plunged the United States into a police state ruled by the PACT Act. Created to crack down on any anti-American attitude—especially any person who is Asian-American or is deemed by the government to be pro-China—it keeps all people in line, but also includes an unspoken policy. The government takes children from their families if they believe the parents are anti-American dissidents.

This is how Bird—the 11-year-old son of Ethan, a white library employee and Margaret, an Asian-American poet—ends up living with just his father and goes by the name Noah. When his mother’s book of poetry called "Our Missing Hearts" is labeled anti-American due to people interpreting it as a call to resistance, she must leave her family and hide. Yet Margaret is not content to let America remain as it is—and Bird is not content NOT knowing why his mother left and where she has gone.

While this may sound far-fetched, you realize it really isn't, when you think of the rise of anti-Asian violence during the pandemic and the U.S.'s history of taking kids from parents to force obedience (slavery, Indigenous communities, immigrants). And that’s what gives Ng’s story its emotional heft. Her prose is expertly crafted, too, from details about Bird’s eyes to the scurry of police as they clean up the latest art-installation of resistance. What I really loved was how, in the end, this book is a love letter to the power of story. Whether it’s Margaret’s words resonating with those who yearn for a better America, to the network of librarians helping locate the missing children and parents, it shows again and again how story encourages empathy, connection, humanity, and love.

Pick this up for Ng's stunning prose and storytelling talent and stay for the cautionary-yet-hopeful narrative. You won’t regret it.