Another one that rearranged by brain furniture and then hid the throw pillows. I need a fuzzy blanket.
Some books entertain you. Some books keep you turning pages. And then there are the rare ones that quietly rearrange your brain furniture while you're still standing there holding a throw pillow. The Paris Files is another one of those books.
Told entirely through police interviews, this novel unfolds piece by piece, layer by layer, like a puzzle you don’t realize you’re solving until you're already deep inside it. At the center of the story is Genevieve St. Onge, Genie to her friends, a woman who falls in love easily and has endured her fair share of heartbreak. Now 40, she believes she’s found something real with Jacob Ford while traveling abroad. Their whirlwind romance leads them to Paris… and then Jacob disappears.
From there, the story unfolds through a series of interviews: the landlord, the neighbor, the best friend, the shopkeeper, the caretaker, the classmate, and even Jacob’s wife. Each voice adds another layer. Each perspective shifts the ground just a little more. And before long, you find yourself questioning everything and everyone.
Did Jacob exist?
Is Genie a reliable narrator?
Are any of these witnesses telling the full truth?
And what about that elevator?
What I loved most about this book was the structure. The police interview format felt fresh and incredibly effective. Rather than building tension through action, the author builds unease through contradiction, omission, and subtle shifts in perspective. The tension starts quietly, almost gently, before tightening slowly until I realized I couldn’t stop reading.
This is very much a psychological thriller, but not in a don't-close-your-eyes way. Instead, it creates a creeping unease. I wasn’t scared; I was more unsettled. I felt like there was something deeper happening just out of reach, something I needed to understand but couldn’t quite grasp.
The characters were another highlight. Genie is romantic, hopeful, and vulnerable in a way that makes you root for her even as you begin to doubt her. The supporting cast is equally compelling, even Rolande, the caretaker experiencing early dementia, whose perspective adds another layer of uncertainty. Each character felt distinct, believable, and important to the unfolding mystery.
The plot was brilliantly constructed. The layering of perspectives creates a perfect storm of unreliable narration. By the end, I trusted no one. Absolutely no one.
If I had to offer a small critique, it’s that the tension builds slowly at first. Readers expecting immediate suspense might need to settle into the pacing. That slow burn, however, is exactly what makes the payoff so effective.
Content warnings to consider: themes of psychological manipulation, dementia, emotional distress, and disappearance.
This book will appeal to readers who enjoy psychological thrillers, unreliable narrators, layered storytelling, and stories that leave you thinking long after the final page. If you like books that quietly get under your skin, this one is absolutely worth your time.
The ending was one of those stare-at-the-wall-for-a-few-minutes endings that makes you immediately want to reread the book and see what you missed the first time.
And yes… I’m already considering a reread.
Thank you to Viking Penguin for providing this advanced copy for review consideration via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
