This book wrecked me in a Chick-fil-A drive-through.
I'm sitting there, Sophie asleep in the carseat behind me, waiting on chicken nuggets for the older two, and I've got tears rolling down my face because Adam Silvera decided to write a prequel about two boys falling for each other on the same night one of them gets a call saying they're going to die. In the drive-through. At 11:40 AM on a Tuesday. The teenage cashier looked genuinely concerned.
The Premise That Won't Let You Breathe
Here's the setup: DeathCast is launching — like, the very first night it goes live. The organization that calls people to tell them they'll die within 24 hours. Orion has a heart condition and has basically been living in suspended animation, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Valentino just moved to New York from Puerto Rico with big dreams and a face made for magazine covers. They meet at the launch party. Sparks fly. Then the phones start ringing.
One gets a call. One doesn't.
Silvera does something cruel and brilliant here — he doesn't tell you which one right away. So you're listening to both of these boys fall for each other knowing that the clock is already ticking for one of them, and every sweet moment has this razor edge underneath it. It's romance and countdown at the same time, and my god, it works. Kiss the Villain gave me that same gut-punch combo of falling in love while something terrible is already in motion — different stakes, same breathless feeling. Even at 1.25x speed, I caught myself holding my breath during certain scenes. Specifically when Orion talks about how his heart condition made him stop making plans — not because he was scared of dying, but because he was scared of wanting things he might not get to have. That hit different as someone who left a career to raise kids and sometimes wonders about the plans she stopped making.
Dutch Narration from a Non-Dutch Mom
Okay, so — important note. This is the Dutch-language audiobook narrated by Leandro Ceder. I should be transparent: my Dutch is limited to what I picked up from my college roommate and IKEA furniture names. I listened to this because my book club friend Marieke recommended it and I wanted to see if the emotional weight carried through in translation. It does. Silvera's writing is so rooted in emotional honesty that even in Dutch, the rhythm of the boys' conversations — the way they go from strangers to something more in a matter of hours — comes through. Ceder's voice has this warmth to it that works particularly well for Orion's sections, where the character is trying so hard to be brave about something terrifying.
I can't give a super detailed narration critique because, you know, not my first language. But I will say that Ceder keeps the two boys distinct enough that even when I was half-focused on making sure Sophie didn't throw her sippy cup at a stranger, I could track who was talking.
Why This Book Survived 47 Pauses
At 10 hours, this is a perfect week-long listen for someone on my schedule. I finished it across school drop-offs, one glorious two-hour nap (thank you, Sophie, you angel), and yes — three sessions of sitting in my car in the garage. The structure helps: because it takes place over essentially one night and one day, the timeline is dead simple. Pause it for twenty minutes to break up a fight about whose turn it is on the iPad? Come right back. You know exactly where you are.
But here's what I want to be honest about — this is a YA book and it reads like one. The dialogue sometimes has that slightly too-articulate quality where teenagers sound like they're writing Instagram captions about mortality. Valentino's backstory with his family in Puerto Rico gets sketched pretty lightly compared to Orion's medical history. And if you already read Op het einde gaan ze allebei dood (the first book, which is actually the sequel — prequels are confusing), you know some of where this is going, which takes a little wind out of the sails.
But also? Sometimes you don't need groundbreaking. Sometimes you need a book that makes you feel something real in between loading the dishwasher and negotiating bedtime. Heartwishes scratched a similar itch for me — nothing revolutionary, but the kind of story that just quietly gets you. And this one made me feel a LOT of something real.
The Part Where I Ugly-Cried at Chick-fil-A
The ending. I won't spoil it, but you know going in that someone dies. Silvera earns every single tear because he spends the whole book making you love both of these boys — Orion's quiet courage, Valentino's stubborn optimism — and then he doesn't flinch. The last thirty minutes are brutal and beautiful and I sat in that drive-through lane with my sunglasses on pretending I was fine.
Who Should Listen (And Who Should Skip)
If you need a good cry and can handle YA romance with a ticking clock, this one delivers — especially if you're fitting audiobooks into the cracks of a packed schedule. Skip it if overly polished teen dialogue pulls you out of a story, or if you need your narration in English.
Made me cry at school pickup. Worth it though. (Well, Chick-fil-A pickup. Same energy.)
My book club will love this — if I ever have time for book club again.
