Mysteries and I have a complicated relationship. My grumpy, big-brained husband typically solves the mystery within the first few minutes. Whereas I definitely do not. If I actually read the book with the purpose of solving a mystery perhaps I would have a stronger batting average, but that is rarely the point of a good mystery, at least for me.

A good mystery takes you on a ride. Some of the rides resemble The Tower Of Terror, a big sudden drop that has you screaming and possibly vomiting. Others resemble the teacup ride, constantly spinning, possibly resulting in the regurgitation of your overpriced snacks. Still others more closely correspond to It’s A Small World, a nice happy ride that curves at an expected pace. All of these rides are enjoyable. The same is true for mysteries.

Some have critiqued this book for having an easy twist. I honestly cannot attest to that because I was too busy enjoying the ride to try to puzzle out what was going to be on the next page.

The second I finished this book I texted my best friend demanding that she finish reading it as soon as possible so we could discuss my many thoughts and feelings. So I stewed over my need to talk about this book for two whole days until we could hang out and rant about it for hours.

It’s clear why this book became a bestseller.