From the opening pages, The Quiet Girls feels off in the most unsettling way. A teenage girl goes missing from a prestigious school, a teacher is found dead, and yet there is a disturbing lack of urgency from those in power. The absence of official investigation becomes one of the book’s earliest sources of tension, immediately signaling that this story will not follow a typical crime-fiction path.
The narrative unfolds through two interwoven threads: Dr. Kez Lanyon’s present-day perspective as she begins asking quiet but dangerous questions, and the voice notes of Fredi, the missing girl, which gradually reveal her experiences leading up to her disappearance. Between these two timelines, the story develops not through procedural investigation but through relationships, power dynamics, and what people choose not to say.
As Kez untangles the web surrounding the school it becomes increasingly clear that silence is not accidental. The story starts as a slow burn while the characters and dynamics are established, but that pacing works in its favor. About 100 pages in, I found myself tracking relationships, sensing early on that nothing here would be straightforward. Once the momentum builds, the book becomes a relentless psychological thriller. I put it down once to sleep and picked it up first thing the next morning, unable to stop until the final page.
Kez Lanyon was a standout character for me. I admired her courage, her persistence, and her refusal to back down when something felt deeply wrong. What frustrated me, clearly by design, was the number of adults who either suspected the truth or chose not to act. This is a school, and as a teacher, I found the collective silence surrounding the girls was infuriating.
The psychological tension is highly effective, creating the feeling of watching a slow-motion train wreck. You don’t want to see what’s coming, but you can’t look away. Themes of wealth, class privilege, and silence are woven seamlessly into the story, highlighting how power protects itself. I did not see the villain coming, and the reveal genuinely shocked and appalled me in the best possible way.
Content warnings include sexual assault, pedophilia, and animal cruelty. Despite some deceptively simple language early on, this is not a young adult novel. Readers who enjoy dark psychological thrillers, particularly fans of Freida McFadden, will likely find this one gripping and unsettling.
A special thank you to Headline Publishing Group for providing this book for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
