More twists than a soap opera set in a funhouse mirror maze.
That about sums up Pretty Girls. I closed this book feeling like my brain had just been wrung out, dried on high heat, and tossed back at me with a note that said, You still think you know people?
This one is a psychological wrecking ball. Karin Slaughter doesn’t just pull the rug out. She yanks up the floorboards and sets the house on fire. Sometimes literally.
At the heart of the story are sisters Claire and Lydia, estranged for years after the disappearance of their sister Julia. Claire became the picture of privilege and avoidance, while Lydia spiraled into addiction and anger. Their paths couldn’t have diverged more until tragedy forces them back together. And from there every layer of their lives starts to peel back, revealing something uglier underneath.
Honestly, I wasn’t surprised by how Claire and Lydia’s relationship evolved. People handle trauma in different ways, Claire avoided conflict, Lydia self-destructed. What mattered more to me was that they eventually saved each other. And I love when fiction lets women do that: Rescue themselves and each other instead of waiting for a hero.
As for revenge… let’s just say what happened to Paul wasn’t revenge. It was justice, served cold and outside the boundaries of a very corrupt system. And I didn’t feel bad about it for a single second.
Julia’s disappearance haunts every page. You can feel how it shaped the family, especially Lydia, who becomes almost feral in her protectiveness of her daughter. The ripple of trauma runs deep, and Slaughter never lets you forget that.
The violence in this book is brutal, but it belongs here. It’s supposed to make you flinch. It’s supposed to remind you that monsters often look normal, that horror hides in the ordinary. Claire’s transformation from “pretty” to powerful is what balances it out. She starts shallow and unaware but ends as a survivor who finally sees the truth - and herself - for what they are.
Money and charm might hide the darkness, but they don’t erase it. Paul didn’t have to stalk Claire; he already had her life wired, watched, and probably filmed. Behind the perfect façade was pure rot. It’s a sobering reminder that appearances mean nothing, and safety is sometimes an illusion we buy into because it’s easier than facing what’s real.
By the end, Claire, Lydia, and their mother Helen stand stronger than they began. They’ve faced the worst and found some measure of peace. The ghosts will always linger, sure, but they’ll face them together this time.
Pretty Girls is not for the faint of heart, but if you like your thrillers dark, emotional, and unflinchingly honest about the worst parts of human nature, it’s worth the wreckage.
