Okay, seriously. Can we talk about how "boarding school for wayward girls" is basically code for "society hates inconvenient women"? It makes my blood boil. I started this audiobook thinking it was just going to be a spooky ghost story to get me through a logo design project, but 20 minutes in, I'm yelling at my monitor while trying to kern a font. The premise—parents dumping their daughters at Idlewild Hall because they were "illegitimate" or "too smart"—hit a nerve. My Abuela used to tell stories about how strict things were back in the day, but this? This is next-level cruel. So yeah, I was angry before the first ghost even showed up. (And honestly, that's the best way to start a thriller, right? Rage is a great fuel.)
The Voice of a Ghost
Look, I read the reviews before I bought this. People were saying Rebecca Lowman is "bland" or "flat." I almost didn't get it because, you know me, I need feelings. But here's the thing—they're wrong. Or, at least, they're missing the point for this specific book.
Lowman doesn't do the high-drama, screaming-in-terror performance. She's quiet. She's cool. Her voice is like that cold draft you feel in an old house that makes the hair on your arms stand up. It's understated. When she voices the 1950s girls, she sounds resigned and terrified, not hysterical. It actually made it scarier for me? If she had been over-acting, it would've felt cheesy. Instead, it felt like a confession whispered in the dark. She proved me wrong here the same way she did in Last Thing He Told Me—her restraint is actually her superpower. I listened at 1.0x speed as usual, and it felt like she was sitting in the room with me. Frida (my cat) was staring at the speakers the whole time, so maybe she heard the ghosts too. Just saying.
Throwaway Girls & Found Family
The dual timeline usually stresses me out—I always like one better than the other—but St. James balances them perfectly here. You have Fiona in 2014, a journalist who can't let go of her sister's murder (relatable, I hold grudges for decades), and then the four roommates in 1950.
The chemistry between the 1950s girls—Katie, Roberta, Sonia, and CeCe—is where I lost it. I didn't ugly-cry like I did with Beach Read, but I definitely got misty. They found family in a place designed to break them. There's a scene where they're just trying to protect each other from the school/ghosts/life, and it broke my heart. It's not a romance, but the love between these friends is the anchor. It felt heavy. Real. That same weight of female friendship under impossible circumstances shows up in Night Patrol, though in a completely different setting.
Who This Is (and Isn't) For
If you want jump scares and fast-paced horror, skip this one. But if you love gothic atmosphere—rain, ruins, overgrown gardens—and stories about women surviving systems built to erase them? This is your book. Come for the ghosts, stay for the friendships that make you cry.
2 AM on a Tuesday, Cold Coffee in Hand
I finished this when I should've been sleeping. The atmosphere is thick—it's very gothic. It's a slow creep. Sadder than it is scary, honestly.
Abuela would have hated this—way too many ghosts, she'd be splashing holy water on my Alexa—but for me? It worked. It's a rainy day mood. Just maybe keep a light on.
