There's no other way for me to put this: this is a book that fucks with your head. David's wife has died and he has completely lost his grip on the real world. David begins receiving ominous threats in strange places and he is ever-distrusting of Detective Chico, who's been assigned to investigate the situation. There's not really a lot of meat or emotion here, and Gray is a little too experimental-cum-hipster for me to fully embrace but my goodness does she do a masterful job of pulling the audience into David's confusion. Maybe her detached style serves this strategy well. Or maybe it's the other way around, I'm not sure. This isn't my typical type of story, but Amelia Gray has managed to weave some fantastic insights on love and loss into a convoluted mind fuck of a novel perfectly suited to her choppy writing style.