Review of Dead Girls Can’t Tell Secrets by Chelsea Ichaso
There’s something undeniably captivating about a mystery that unfolds in the shadows of familial bonds, and Dead Girls Can’t Tell Secrets caught my eye for just that reason. Chelsea Ichaso, known for her gripping tales like Little Creeping Things, pulls readers into a world of secrets, betrayal, and the search for truth. The moment I read the description, I knew this was going to be a thrilling ride.
At the heart of the story is Savannah Sullivan, the tenacious older sister of Piper, who is lying in a coma following what everyone assumes was an accident during a hike. Savannah’s struggle feels palpable; anyone with a sibling can relate to that simmering blend of protectiveness and urgency. The narrative invites us to explore the murky waters of grief and suspicion, raising a pivotal question: What really happened on that mountain?
Ichaso crafts an atmosphere heavy with tension, especially during the camping trip that Savannah undertakes to uncover the truth. She cleverly integrates the concept of an unreliable narrator through the friendships in the wilderness club, where every member seems to harbor their own dark secrets. I found myself constantly second-guessing my theories, making each revelation feel like a delightful twist. The author has a way of keeping the suspense alive, which makes this a binge-worthy read.
One of the notable aspects of Ichaso’s writing is her ability to evoke a sense of place. The mountain, described with an eerie beauty, is almost a character in its own right, contributing to the secrets buried deeper than the forest floor. It’s a chilling backdrop for Savannah’s quest, adding to the overall atmosphere of dread and mystery. The pacing is remarkably tight—a breathless experience that left me on the edge of my seat, eager to turn each page.
Amidst the secrets, the emotional core of the book resonates deeply, especially the ambivalence Savannah feels about her sister’s perfect image. A quote that stands out reads: “I never knew what kind of monster I could be until I had to be one to find her.” This line encapsulates Savannah’s transformation from a protective sister to a determined detective, highlighting the darker shades of love and loyalty.
However, some characters occasionally tread the line of stereotypical, which left me craving more depth. Still, Savannah’s raw determination and impulsiveness are relatable qualities that keep the reader invested. The resolutions come at a swift pace, which some may find a touch rushed, but personally, I appreciated the compactness of the narrative—a homage to the thrill of unraveling a mystery.
Dead Girls Can’t Tell Secrets is perfect for readers who enjoy YA thrillers, reminiscent of One of Us Is Lying or A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder. Ichaso successfully blends psychological depth with an engaging whodunit. If you’re drawn to stories rich with flawed characters and buried truths, this book will certainly resonate.
In blissful reflection, I find myself pondering the delicate dance of secrets and the stories they can tell—or conceal. Ichaso has left me craving more of her work, eager for another dive into her captivating narratives. Dead Girls Can’t Tell Secrets is not just a book; it’s an invitation to question, to explore, and perhaps to confront the truths we may not wish to see. Happy reading!