A spiraling divorcée becomes obsessed with solving the decades-old murder of her college roommate.
Though they had lived together as freshmen at UNC Chapel Hill, by sophomore year Joy Brunner and Karlie Richards barely spoke thanks to Karlie’s affair with the married sociology professor Joy had a crush on. In December of that year, Karlie mailed Joy a letter, which Joy didn’t open. In January, someone strangled Karlie to death in her off-campus apartment. Police arrested the person who found her body—a developmentally disabled young man named Toby who worked at a restaurant Karlie frequented—but many questioned his guilt. Now, nearly 20 years later, in 2019, Joy is reeling from her soon-to-be-ex-husband’s decision to trade her in for a happier, more fertile model when her son discovers Karlie’s unread letter tucked in a book. To Joy’s surprise, the missive contains both an apology for hurting her and clues suggesting the wrong person is in prison for Karlie’s homicide. Joy latches onto the notion like a life raft, determined to give her lonely days meaning. Pearson’s debut is less a thriller than a loosely woven web of character sketches, several of which are only minimally related to either Karlie’s demise or Joy’s investigation. While this approach allows Pearson to paint nuanced portraits of would-be bit players—such as Joy’s teenage son, Karlie’s lover’s wife, and the present-day night manager of Karlie’s old apartment complex—it also leaves Joy and Karlie somewhat underdeveloped, diminishing the book’s stakes and throttling its drive. An abrupt, almost arbitrary ending does further disservice, neutralizing the emotional impact and precluding any sense of catharsis. A little more attention to plot would have gone a long way.
Artful but unsatisfying.