From the New York Times bestselling author of Something in the Water comes “an utter white-knuckle ride that took me into a heart of darkness” (Lucy Foley, author of The Paris Apartment).
Violence, confinement.
Nina, still grieving from the loss of her father, discovers that she has inherited property in the British Virgin Islands—a vacation home she had no idea existed, until now. The house is extraordinary: state-of-the-art, all glass and marble. How did her sensible father come into enough money for this? Why did he keep it from her? And what else was he hiding?
Maria, once an ambitious medical student, is a nanny for the super-rich. The money’s better, and so are the destinations where her work takes her. Just one more gig, and she’ll be set. Finally, she’ll be secure. But when her wards never show, Maria begins to make herself at home, spending her days luxuriating by the pool and in the sauna. There’s just one rule: Don’t go in the basement. That room is off-limits. But her curiosity might just get the better of her. And soon, she’ll wish her only worry was not getting paid.
Don't just take our word for it...
“Look in the Mirror is an astonishing adrenaline rush of a novel, one that keeps you guessing from start to finish. This is the best novel I’ve read in ages.”
– Danielle Trussoni, New York Times bestselling author of The Puzzle Master
“Hypnotic and pulse-pounding, Look in the Mirror is both a dazzling puzzle-box of a thriller and an evocative exploration of trust, power, and how well we really know the people we love. I flew through its lush prose and intricate plot in 24 hours flat—and didn’t want it to end!”
– Andrea Bartz, New York Times bestselling author of The Spare Room and We Were Never Here
“A gloriously, lushly evoked setting and an utter white-knuckle ride of a plot that took me into a heart of darkness . . . Catherine Steadman more than delivers on the brilliant twists and thrills I’ve come to expect from her writing, yet still rings the changes—this feels totally fresh and unique.”
– Lucy Foley, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Paris Apartment
Taste the very first page
The letter must have sat unopened for a month on your abandoned hall table as things carried on around it, the correspondence inside quietly waiting for me to find it.
I look down at its crisp envelope as it rests on my blackclad knee, the grain of its paper heavy, expensive, everything about it signaling that the correspondence contained within is substantial, important, and I wonder how I could have missed it.
But I have been busy with you: coroners, certificates, funerals, and memorials. The business of losing a father is a full- time, short-term contract with limited perks and a clear cutoff point. Though the admin thankfully fills the sudden gulf of hours.
The letter gathered dust in the worn leather letter holder where you always kept mail, while I tried to impose order on the inevitable chaos that a death leaves in its wake. There is chaos left behind even when the person who is gone was a meticulous genius, like you. And you were a genius, or as close as…
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