Sylvia attends her nana’s funeral. Through flashbacks, we learn nana wasn’t the sweet old lady most believed.

Fracassi uses the supernatural as a metaphor for emotional and sexual abuse. Sylvia recounts her transition from wide-eyed child to jaded, self-destructive teen, but the flashback structure deprives us of a chance to see her voice evolve.

There‘s a powerful novel here. One that explores the insidious nature of abuse—the predatory nature, the false promises, lies, and threats. The emotional scarring. It‘s all here, but compressed. Lacking the space to swing, the punches don’t pack the wallop they could.

Still, I enjoyed Fracassi’s twist on anthropomorphising nature, and I loved the nightmare trees scene.