My rating: (3 / 5)
I would have liked this book a whole lot better if I’d skipped the weird and sappy epilogue.
This is a book about how guilt can haunt us. How we can turn our childhood mistakes into spectres scarier than any ghost from beyond. How we can spend our whole lives trying to explain, or cure, or right what took only moments, but shattered us.
When you lose a brother to drowning in childhood, finding out the little boy who lived in your house before you drowned in the lake behind the house the summer before can drive you nearly to the brink of insanity. Especially when you’re certain that boy is still lingering in your home, as evidenced by the ghostly handprint he left in fresh paint. But how do you solve a mystery that no one else in a small town wants you to?