Cassie Maddox and Rob Ryan of the (fictional) Dublin police force—as noted afterward, there is no such thing—catch a particularly grizzly case that harkens back to Ryan’s hometown, and a past he’s not nearly thought of or reckoned with. If any duo, far more close than most detective pairs tend to be, can pull it off, though, you’d think it’d be these two.

In fact, the book starts out essentially building the B plot, that of the complicated relationship between the two that is built on a framework neither of them is aware of. More like old patterns overlaying their behaviours, rather than a conscious decision to build a friend and partnership on. By the time the A plot starts we are absolutely saturated with character knowledge and the framing of first person narration of Ryan telegraphs that this is no simple case or relationship. He tells us he’s a liar and far from objective in this case. And that’s all true. Nor is Cassie, for her part in this positively gutting story.

It’s these kinds of books that are why women can write men and it’s so often the case that men do not write convincing women. As much as it’s about the case itself. Who did it and why. How maddening it is to work a case of child murder. It’s also absolutely about the unconscious and savage patterns were undertake in our lives every day. And how, when trauma is involved, there is absolutely a cyclical and vicious framework applied to the generally the most victimized and, for lack of a better word, broken people.

Never have I read a book that provides such vital understand and comprehension of a protagonist. Ryan is traumatized and self destructive in a noir way, but French refuses to characterize him as a loveable or heroic like that framework often does. Indeed, from the horses mouth we see and learn just how messed up Ryan is. And although he and Cassie are the people to dig into the case—we also clearly see the web of trauma and pain correlating to our main characters as well as the victim.

There is no simple, easy solution. I absolutely think this book is interrogating the fact that many traumatized people enter a cycle of pain that the Justice system simply is not built to resolve. This endless meatgrinder just continues to allow for victims to have no restorative process, becoming debilitated in numerous ways.

Unwilling to glamorize the casual pain people inflict on each other, no matter how close they are, this book is gruelling. I think it was Gaiman said a good book has every character get what they need. Not what they want. In this case the stark light feels, to me, like a few hard truths French planted with a stern flag. We can acknowledge our fascination with the darkness of humankind and with death and murder.

But we also too often skate accountability in our own thoughts and actions; unwilling to interrogate our own pain, and so we too become just another person who disintegrates relationships or replicates toxic behaviours and patterns simply because we can. Perhaps we don’t ever find another way without help. There are conversations in here that feel so intimate and relatable. Where the secret parts of yourself are put in display as you tell another person about them and it feels like you’re loading a gun with each word, handing it to them, and hoping to god that in the future, come some argument or change in power dynamics, they don’t shoot you dead.

There is far more, somehow, at stake in this story than finding the killer of a young girl. Everyone feels at a crossroads or on trial. Death hangs in the air. Even if it’s emotional stakes. Like I said, the book _starts_ with a detailed accounting of Cassie and Ryan as people and partners trying to just be people despite their past. And if you care about that then there is always a lot more at stake than a killer.

Absolutely incredible debut. My only qualm is the prose being uneven. However the themes feel incredibly well realized and meaningful. This book had a real impact on me. Mostly because I read something like Bewilderment and I don’t see reality. I see the Disney channel. When I read about people just trying to be okay for most of the day, and being caught up in destructive patterns, I see reality. I see the human condition. That’s the fine line these kinds of books walk. And this one does it with absolute grace.