I liked this book, but I didn't love it the way I expected to. I mean, let's be clear, murder and medicine and feminism is a fantastic combination and I'm not entirely sure why picking this book up felt like a thing I ought to do to finish it rather than a thing I was excited to do.
It's always hard when it's like "did this book have the misfortune to be read when I was super tired?" "Did this book not pay off all the things it set up?"
A bit of both. It felt like there were a lot of threads that Schwartz braided together and then just dropped a bunch, not in terms of remembering, but in terms of resolution and also I think I wasn't entirely bought in to the book and didn't pick it up because it was the thing I most wanted to read next, but the thing that was just there.