This wasn't the thriller/mystery combo that the synopsis led me to believe. It was more about the drama that ensued in the lives of the characters after a 'certain' eventful night.
I don't have a problem with that. I like being deceived, at least when I am reading. The problem arises when you claim to bring the ruckus but fall short, because that's not very Wu-Tang of you.
The pivotal POV gets narrated by the 15 year old horny, gay teenager who spends more time talking about another guy than focusing on the harrowing ordeal that was unfolding within those walls. He ends up being the MVP in the end, yes, but the way to that point is filled with the essays about long lashes, luscious hair, fuller lips and mystical eyes of the guy he had a crush on.
A 41 year old man impregnated a 14 year old girl, can we talk about that please? It was like the author was just too afraid to go there. The writing felt equivalent to sleeping with a night bulb on while claiming to love the dark. The cursory descriptions of debauchery & crime feel like a cop out at best, which ends up spoiling the overall fun for me. The motivations of the character who plunged our main characters' life into the dark depths of hell were never even explored.
In an attempt to somewhat imitate Darren Aronofsky's Mother, the author fails to fully capture the unease that every frame of that movie effortlessly emanates.
3.7/5🌟🌟🌟