Those parts of the book about Henry, who is probably younger version of Dexter, undiscovered sociopath who hides his unconditional love for Phin, captured my attention. Plot was intriguing: Unwanted and never-leaving guests occupied house and their numbers increased every day till they completely turned into an ominous, cursed and chilling cult, whose members wear ugly shapeless black clothes, chose organic style diet by famishing children.Īnd we met David and Birdie, they’re one of the creepiest couples as like Natural Born Killer’s “Mickey and Mallory”, or any adopted children of Woody Allen and him. My intellectual appetite increased and my level of curiosity hit to the top.
I felt all the goose-bumps on my arm, sweat dripping down my forearm, shivered uncontrollably. She is the master evil queen of thrillers taken place in creepy houses and the characters formed in dysfunctional families who have unresolved issues. Personally, honestly, I love this author’s work starting from “Watching you”, “Then she was gone”, “I found you”. The can’t-look-away story of three entangled families living in a house with the darkest of secrets.ģ.25 confused, restless, is it fair enough to give lower points because you’re die-hard fan of Lisa Jewell fan question flying over my head, creepy, oh those guests should urgently get the hell out of the house stars! And the four other children reported to live at Cheyne Walk were gone. Downstairs in the kitchen lay three dead bodies, all dressed in black, next to a hastily scrawled note. When they arrived, they found a healthy ten-month-old happily cooing in her crib in the bedroom. Twenty-five years ago, police were called to 16 Cheyne Walk with reports of a baby crying. But what she can’t possibly know is that others have been waiting for this day as well-and she is on a collision course to meet them. Everything in Libby’s life is about to change. She soon learns not only the identity of her birth parents, but also that she is the sole inheritor of their abandoned mansion on the banks of the Thames in London’s fashionable Chelsea neighborhood, worth millions. She rips it open with one driving thought: I am finally going to know who I am. Soon after her twenty-fifth birthday, Libby Jones returns home from work to find the letter she’s been waiting for her entire life.
An alternative cover edition for this ISBN can be found here.
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