Ingenious. Cleverly done misdirection, the type that had me, at the appropriate moment, put down the book, close my eyes, and rethink everything I’d read so far. (This is not a spoiler. The astute reader, picking up on the subtle “SOMETIMES I LIE” hint in the title and on page one, might already be expecting some sleight-of-plot.)

There are no sympathetic characters in this book. Nobody to root for, nobody to like. Normally this redirects a book toward my Abandoned pile, but not this time: the writing was tight, the story gripping. I also forgave the clumsy Dear Diary portions: no ten-year-old writes like that—nobody writes like that, it was just an obvious exposition tool—I chose to grit my eyes, roll my teeth, and stick with it. In hindsight, well, no spoilers but yeah, of course I get it now.

What’s there to like? A lot, actually. I really enjoyed this book. Feeney has the gift of pacing: building tension, throwing crumbs, tossing in occasional small twists, perfect phrases that you know are hints but don’t yet understand their meaning. She kept me curious and engaged the whole way through. Brava. I hope there’s more where that came from.