In the course of her work, a woman finds herself sent to the Argentinian town that she left twenty years previously in the aftermath of a terrible tragedy…

I read this way back in July, but it remains my favourite book so far this year and I still think about it. I adored the writing, but the story itself also had me in its grips and I couldn’t put it down (literally - I stayed up until 1am reading it, a rare occurrence for me).

At the heart of the novel is a terrible tragedy, and yet the focus isn’t so much on the tragedy itself, but on the long-term ripples and consequences of a split-second decision and its fallout, and therein lies its strength. Piñeiro doesn’t pass judgement on the various choices that are made - it’s not really about whether they were right or wrong, but an exploration of how we live with the choices we make. Not in terms of dwelling on them or all the what ifs, but how we move forward with our lives afterwards, when what’s done is done.

The other aspect of the novel that deeply struck a chord is that really, it could be any of us - not the exact set of circumstances, but we’ve all done things we shouldn’t (glancing at one’s phone whilst driving seems a likely modern equivalent) - so much of life hinges on luck in any given moment, whether a lot, a little or an absence of it. And frankly, nobody truly knows how they will react in a horror situation until they’re in it with no time to think rationally, but it’s remarkably easy to think you would react in an exemplary manner and throw blame on those who don’t.

A masterfully-told story of the rippling fallout of tragedy, of guilt and of the luck that affects our lives.