This book made me SUPER uncomfortable. It is definitely a page-turner, but no depth or development to the characters, just trauma porn: one bloody, terrible thing after another for 400 pages. The writing itself was pretty innocuous, but the tone is off; it felt like I was being shown Mexico through the eyes of a horrified tourist, not those of a woman born and raised there, and certainly not those of child. Probably because it was written by a white woman with no ties to the Mexican community. While I don't think that authors must only ever write about their personal experience, it still feels exploitive to me that this author is making millions off a book about the violence of Mexico (because really, it is only about violence), when actual living Mexican authors can't get representation by major publishers. Glad I got this one from the library instead of purchasing it.