
Set in Walthamstow, East London, this dark, propulsive novel follows two booksellers as their lives tangle around true crime, loneliness, and the dangerous pull of attention. Laura—beloved at work, careful with beauty, and quietly carrying a terrible past—writes poetry that turns crime narratives inside out. Roach—spiky, isolated, and fiercely devoted to killers and case files—hears those poems like a private signal. She leans in. Then she breaks in.
Across autumn into a brutal December, we watch a fandom become fixation and a fixation become a life on the brink. A stolen chapbook turns into stolen keys. A coworker’s night out ends with blurred memories and blood on a kitchen floor. By Christmas, the shop is shutting its doors, and the only thing left is the story each woman will tell the world—and the version of themselves they’ll become to tell it.
This is a tense, intimate thriller about the thrill of looking and the cost of being seen. It’s about grief you can’t outrun, love you can’t quite name, and the moment you realize your life is being narrated by someone who doesn’t love you back.