Family attorney Murphy’s first novel is an unnerving feminist retake on Strangers on a Train.
Even though they’ve never met, Leah Dawson and McKenna Hawkins have a lot in common. They’re “roughly the same height, with pretty features, blue eyes, and long blond hair.” They live in the same neighborhood in suburban Clarkstown, Maryland. They’re both childless, well-educated professionals—Leah’s an attorney, McKenna’s a pediatrician—married to even more successful colleagues. And both of their husbands are domestic abusers who seek to control every aspect of their lives. Psychiatrist Zackary Hawkins has pressed McKenna relentlessly to quit her job; divorce attorney Liam Dawson arranged for Leah to get fired from hers. As a result, Leah has withdrawn from most of her friendship groups, spent almost no time with her beloved mother and brother, and spiraled into nonstop drinking. One night, while she’s out walking around the neighborhood in lieu of doing the more strenuous exercise urged by Liam, who blames her illness a few months earlier for her miscarriage, she happens to pass the Hawkins house and sees a disturbing interaction between husband and wife. Fascinated and repelled, she keeps returning to look in on her counterpart until one fateful night when just looking isn’t enough. Leah’s intervention in to McKenna’s domestic crisis irreversibly changes the lives of both women even though the involvement of Detective Jordan Harrison, of the Clarkstown Police, doesn’t intensify the nightmare; it just transposes it into a new key and threatens to prolong it indefinitely.
Strikes an unsettling chord from the beginning and never lets go.