THE BOY WHO STEALS HOUSES

A bleak, poignant story about families: those you’re born with, those you find, and those you try to steal.

Sammy Lou, only 15, and his autistic older brother, Avery, are homeless, scraping by on Avery’s precarious earnings and whatever Sammy can steal. Until he breaks into the De Lainey house, the polar opposite of empty: one dad, seven kids, and all their friends. Sammy hides in the effervescent chaos, aided by the gorgeous, ferocious, talented Moxie…until his past catches up with him. Australian author Drews leans hard on the pathos, burdening undersized Sammy (cued as white) with a runaway mother, a brutal criminal father, an abusive aunt, constant hunger, illness, and injury; but also an explosively violent temper and toxic co-dependency with Avery. Lush prose with distracting lapses into idiosyncratic formatting reveals a lonely, self-loathing teen yearning to belong. Avery is a complicated foil; his autism presents matter-of-factly, neither blamed for nor excusing his poor choices. Other characters are less well drawn; Moxie, with her olive skin and frizzy “chocolate hair,” may have her own goals but serves mostly as a vehicle for Sammy’s dreams; her brothers exist to be charmingly quirky; and every adult (except the improbably saintly De Lainey father) is cruel, exploitative, or at best indifferent. The downward spiral of Sam’s bad decisions accelerates until only a metaphorical fairy godparent can provide a barely hopeful resolution.

Depending on taste, either a heartbreaking evocation of feels or endless slog of misery.