I literally just lunged this book across my room. Twice. This piece of shit, parasite of a mother abandoned her eldest son after her other son is kidnapped and now wants to pretend that she was simply afraid of being a mom to him because she knew she would let him down “simply by being his mom.” Pish tosh. She always favored her second child for being “so easy.” After he was gone, she gave up because of her selfishness. Now she wants to dance at her own pity party and blame her husband too, claiming that he wasn’t there as much as she wasn’t. Go fly a kite. What about the oldest son? What about his feelings? His wants? His needs? After 10 years they still don’t matter to her.
This novel isn’t true. It’s insincere. A writer can’t tell us a character’s genuine feelings and have the feelings be untrue. The reader loses the trust one has for the writer. Jacquelyn Mitchard is a liar.