I picked this up expecting early Liane Moriarty to hit the same as Big Little Lies Moriarty. Spoiler: it doesn't. But here's the thing I discovered somewhere between school pickup and hiding in my garage with lukewarm coffee—that's not entirely a bad thing.
The Sisters Who Survived My Chaos
Lyn, Cat, and Gemma Kettle are thirty-three-year-old triplets navigating the kind of year that makes you want to crawl into bed and not come out. One's a control freak with spreadsheets for everything (I felt seen), one just discovered her husband's affair, and one bolts from relationships like they're on fire. The premise sounds heavy, but Moriarty keeps things surprisingly light—more wine-with-girlfriends than sobbing-into-tissues.
What I loved: these women are messy. Like, actually messy. Cat's rage about her cheating husband doesn't get wrapped up in a neat bow. Gemma's commitment issues aren't solved by meeting the right guy. Lyn's obsessive list-making is both her superpower and her prison. They fight dirty, say terrible things to each other, and then show up anyway. That same messy, authentic sister energy shows up in Freshman Fantasy, though with a completely different setting. As someone who texts my sisters things I'd never say to anyone else and then calls them crying the next day—this felt real.
The book moves through their thirty-third year with flashbacks to childhood and flash-forwards to a mysterious incident at their birthday dinner. It's a structure that works surprisingly well for interrupted listening. I paused this thing approximately 847 times (Sophie discovered she can climb out of her crib, so naps are now a suggestion) and never lost the thread.
About That Narrator Though
Okay, here's where I have to be honest. Heather Wilds has a pleasant enough voice—melodious, even—but distinguishing between the three sisters? Nearly impossible. They all sound... the same. In a book literally ABOUT triplets, you'd think the narrator would lean into making each sister distinct. Instead, I found myself rewinding during conversations trying to figure out who was talking.
It's frustrating because the material is there. Moriarty writes these women with such different personalities—Cat's sharp edges, Gemma's dreamy chaos, Lyn's controlled tension. But the narration flattens them all into one voice. By the midpoint I'd adjusted, but those first few hours required more attention than I usually have available between refereeing sibling disputes and convincing a two-year-old that goldfish crackers are not a food group.
First Novel Energy (For Better and Worse)
You can tell this is Moriarty's debut. The prose is good but not quite as sharp as her later work. Some subplots meander. The pacing occasionally stalls when you want it to sprint. But there's something charming about seeing where she started—the bones of what would become Big Little Lies and The Husband's Secret are all here. The dark humor. The complicated women. The way she makes you laugh and then sucker-punches you with something real. Great Train Robbery has that same balance—lighter than you expect but with genuine emotional weight.
The ending didn't make me ugly-cry at pickup (thank goodness, the other moms already think I'm weird), but it did leave me with that satisfied, warm feeling. Not groundbreaking, but sometimes you don't need groundbreaking. Sometimes you need a story about sisters who love each other even when they want to strangle each other, and you need it to end with hope.
Who Should Queue This Up (And Who Should Skip)
If you're a Moriarty completist, this is worth your time—just know it's more rough draft than polished gem. If you're new to her, honestly? Start with Big Little Lies and come back to this later. Skip it if you're easily frustrated by narrators who don't differentiate characters—you'll spend too much mental energy tracking who's talking.
For my fellow multitasking moms: this works for car time and housework, but maybe not for those distracted moments when you're also mediating a fight over who gets the blue cup. The similar character voices mean you need at least 60% of your brain available. I'd bump it to 1.25x speed—the pacing benefits from a slight push.
Comfort Food That Needed Five More Minutes
Three Wishes is comfort food that's slightly undercooked. The ingredients are quality, the chef clearly has talent, but it needed a few more minutes in the oven. The narration issues are real but not dealbreakers if you're patient. I finished it in about a week and a half of stolen moments, and I don't regret the time spent.
Would my book club love this? (If I ever have time for book club again—ha.) Probably. It's got enough substance for discussion, enough lightness to not feel like homework, and enough sister drama to spark those "oh my god, my sister TOTALLY does that" conversations. Just maybe recommend the print version if anyone's picky about narration.
