“There was something deeper and stranger at stake here – something someone would kill to conceal… someone had tried to scare her away once, and it had almost worked. But it would not work again. Now she wanted answers. What was this secret, the secret that lay at the heart of all this mystery, that someone was ready to kill to protect. Hal wanted answers to all those questions, and more. And she was ready to fight.” (283)

“Now Hal was packed and ready, her coat on, and the sky dark with snow, and she wanted nothing more than to getaway.” (300)

“Hal saw another door, and it was standing ajar… she wanted to turn back- but it was impossible now. It was more than a sick curiosity to know what was behind… No sign of anyone at first and then something moved – a dark shape in the doorway.” (336)

If the summary above intrigued, you should read The Death of Mrs. Westaway by Ruth Ware. Full confession, I almost put the book down at page 50 (as that is my rule when a book isn’t going anywhere). Like the characters in Ware’s last two books, I found Harriet Westway (Hal) whiny and broken. It is as if Ware planned this, as on page 50 she penned “She would not cry. She refused, but she felt something huge and bitter and wild with grief rise up inside her. It was the injustice of it that stung, so like acid in her throat.” With those simple words I said, “Okay, Harriet Westaway … show me what you’re made of.” It was with the declaration the book took off into fantastic twists and turns, and at some moments scared the hell out me (so much so that I awoke my spouse on more than one occasion to ask him if he heard a noise. He told me to put the book down, and go to bed, but I couldn’t because this is the Ware I fell in love with).