The mysterious death of a French child is blamed on an American au pair—but there's more to the story.
This debut novel unfolds in Maisons-Larue, a wealthy suburb of Paris, where au pairs sneak out every night to the cafes and clubs of the city center and wealthy, frustrated mothers compete for attention from their absent husbands, all in the immediate aftermath of the 2016 terrorist attacks on Paris. Alena and Lou, the au pairs at the center of the story, are flawed, full of contradictions, and seem fated to disappoint those who dare to love them. The women's voices we hear in the novel—including the beloved French teacher Géraldine, forever mistaken for a foreigner in her own country because of her darker skin tone; Charlotte, the dead child's mother, who has been desperate to hide her own less-than-pedigreed upbringing; Nathalie, Charlotte's teenage daughter, who feels like an outsider in her mother’s second marriage; the au pairs who are trying to disappear from their past lives or find truer versions of themselves in France—all seem focused, in one way or another, on a shared desire for love and belonging. But it is the cold, quiet, could-be murderous Alena, with her silence throughout much of the novel and refusal to be known, that keeps the reader wanting more. When we finally hear her perspective, Alena offers a darker, more ominous solution to the problem facing the women in this world: “She tries not to want, and most of the time, she thinks she’s successful.” A well-paced narrative that moves through time and multiple perspectives with deft precision, this is a heart-wrenching exploration of who counts as family and how dangerous it can be to let someone in.
A novel about the “people who aren’t completely part of the family” and the true cost of belonging.