Reading this book felt like a warm hug. I picked this book up this morning, and before I knew it, I’d finished it. I couldn’t put it down because it felt like someone had reached into the parts of me that still carry loss and grief and parts that ached and somehow found the words I’d never been able to. There are feelings that sit inside you for years, too heavy, too confusing to explain, just a hollowness, a void staring and this book, for me, gave those feelings a voice. Sometimes all we need is for someone to put a name to what we’re carrying. It doesn’t make the pain disappear, but it makes it feel less lonely. By the end of this book, I felt understood, I felt seen.
People often describe this as a novel about grief, but I don’t think that’s entirely true. Grief is everywhere in these pages, yes, but underneath it is an even bigger story about love. The love between siblings who slowly become strangers. The love between friends who become each other’s safe place. The kind of love that never really disappears. Every relationship in this book is touched by loss, but none of them are defined by it.
At eleven years old, Jules loses both of his parents in a car accident. Along with his older brother Marty and sister Liz, he is sent to a boarding school where the three of them begin grieving in completely different ways. Instead of bringing them closer, the tragedy slowly creates distance between them. It is there that Jules meets Alva, another child carrying her own loneliness, and from that moment their lives become intertwined. The novel follows them over several decades as they grow, drift apart, find each other again, make mistakes, lose people, and try to figure out what it means to keep living after life has changed you forever.
What Benedict Wells does so beautifully is write about trauma in multi layered story where one gets to know the stories of other characters closely through the eyes of Jules. Benedict showcased trauma in such a realistic manner that I saw parts of myself riddled with similar loneliness in each character. The novel shows how grief changes people in ways they don’t even notice. It makes them push away the people they love, miss opportunities, and spend years trying to become someone they recognise again. That honesty is what made this book so devastating.
There were moments where I wished certain characters had been explored a little more. I wanted to understand Marty and Liz beyond the fragments we were given, and I would have loved a deeper look into Alva’s life as well. There are also a few moments where relationships shift or people disappear without much explanation. But strangely, I don’t know if I would change that. Life rarely gives us complete stories or satisfying answers. People leave. Relationships change. We never fully understand why, and perhaps that’s exactly what Wells was trying to capture.
This is a sad book, but I never found it depressing. There’s a difference. It reminded me that pain is the price we pay for loving deeply, and while loss is inevitable, so is the possibility of healing. Somehow, this novel left me with hope instead of despair. It made me want to hold the people I love a little closer and be more open with my own heart, because even if love ends in heartbreak, it is still worth choosing.