Bryden Frost has a perfect life. Luxury condo in Albany. Successful husband. Adorable toddler. Supportive friends. The kind of existence that exists specifically so domestic thriller writers can systematically dismantle it across 352 pages.
One afternoon Bryden fails to pick up her daughter from daycare. Her phone is in the apartment. Her keys are in the hall. Her car is in the garage. Bryden, however, is nowhere. Her body is later found stuffed in a suitcase in the building's storage locker. And from that moment, Shari Lapena does what she does better than almost anyone — she turns every single person in this woman's life into a plausible suspect and watches you squirm.
I started this on a Tuesday evening intending to read one chapter. I finished it at 1am. I am not proud of this. I am, however, completely unsurprised — because this is what the best domestic thrillers do. They are engineered for consumption. They are thriller crack in hardcover form. Lapena has been doing this since The Couple Next Door and she has not lost a step.