It isn’t paranoia if it’s really happening . . .
Anna Fox lives alone, a recluse in her New York City home, unable to venture outside. She spends her day drinking wine (maybe too much), watching old movies, recalling happier times . . . and spying on her neighbors. Then the Russells move into the house across the way: a father, mother, their teenaged son. The perfect family. But when Anna, gazing out her window one night, sees something she shouldn’t, her world begins to crumble?and its shocking secrets are laid bare. What is real? What is imagined? Who is in danger? Who is in control? In this diabolically gripping thriller, no one—and nothing—is what it seems.
Twisty and powerful, ingenious, and moving, The Woman in the Window is a smart, sophisticated novel of psychological suspense that recalls the best of Hitchcock.
Arguably one of the best books I have read in the last two years. I read a lot of this genre and I can tell you that this book blew me away. The narrator was wonderfully unreliable. You know the kind. Drunk, a little bat shit crazy, and maybe lonely enough to do something nuts for attention.
Anna is a separated woman, living alone in her NYC apartment. We find out very early on that she was in an accident, and has PTSD which led to her severe agoraphobia. Her husband and daughter left her, but she talks to them everyday. That’s basically the extent of her socialization until new neighbors move in and 16 year old Ethan befriends her.
While we follow Anna through her story, the twists don’t stop, yet they never feel contrived or forced. She’s a genuinely likeable character and I spent the whole time rooting for her to figure it all out and get her life in order. I’m also very glad I didn’t figure out the ending. It genuinely was a shock, and that’s the best part.
I’m absolutely going to be watching A.J. Finn to see what he does next!