Alicia Berenson is a fascinating character in theory—a silent woman with a traumatic past? Sounds intriguing. But in execution, she’s more of a concept than a person, conveniently staying mute while everyone around her projects their own theories. Theo Faber, our brilliant psychotherapist protagonist, spends most of the book being obsessively invested in Alicia, to a level that should have gotten him fired several times over. The rest of the cast? Barely more than plot devices. Gabriel, the picture-perfect husband? A walking cliché. Jean-Felix? Annoying. Diomedes? Dramatic. It’s like a TV procedural where everyone exists to push the story forward rather than feel like real people.

A high-security mental health facility should feel eerie, tense, and oppressive. Instead, The Grove reads like a poorly managed office building where no one really cares about security protocols. The setting is fine, but it never fully capitalizes on the creepiness of a psychiatric hospital filled with potentially violent patients. The London art scene is mentioned, but aside from a few references to paintings, it could have been replaced with literally any other career path. A wasted opportunity for a more immersive setting.

The writing is efficient, meaning it gets the job done but won’t exactly leave you in awe of its literary brilliance. It’s written in short, punchy chapters designed to keep you flipping pages like you’re binge-watching a Netflix show. Theo’s narration is engaging enough, but let’s be honest—it often feels like he’s spoon-feeding us the story rather than letting us figure things out. Alicia’s diary entries? A little too polished for someone who’s supposedly spiraling. If you’re here for poetic prose, look elsewhere. If you just want a quick, drama-filled ride, you’ll be fine.

This is where the book actually delivers. The pacing is tight, the structure is solid, and the story keeps you intrigued. But let’s not pretend the twist is some next-level mind-blowing revelation. If you’ve read enough thrillers, you’ll probably see it coming before the big aha! moment. The book spends so much time leading you toward a conclusion that, by the time you get there, it’s more of a “Finally!” than a “Wow!” That said, it’s still an entertaining journey, even if it relies on a few conveniently timed omissions.

Despite its flaws, The Silent Patient is ridiculously addictive. Even when I was rolling my eyes at Theo’s questionable therapist behavior or Alicia’s conveniently tragic past, I couldn’t stop reading. The mystery unfolds at just the right pace to keep you hooked, and the suspense is strong enough that even when you do see the twist coming, you still want to know how everything plays out. It’s got that “just one more chapter” energy, even if you’re side-eyeing some of the storytelling choices.

Ah yes, the land of questionable ethics and implausible character decisions. Theo, a trained psychotherapist, breaks basically every professional rule in existence but somehow keeps his job. His marriage? An underdeveloped subplot that exists just to parallel Alicia’s situation. The psychiatric system? Dubiously portrayed at best. The relationships in this book aren’t exactly built on depth—more like they exist to serve the plot. It’s fine if you don’t think about it too hard, but if you start questioning how much of this actually makes sense, good luck.

I had fun with The Silent Patient, but I wouldn’t call it great. It’s the kind of book that’s perfect for a lazy weekend read when you want something fast, twisty, and entertaining—but don’t expect it to hold up under deeper scrutiny. The mystery is solid, the tension is there, and it’s definitely engaging, but it never quite reaches the psychological depth it pretends to have. Would I recommend it? Sure, but only if you go in knowing you’re getting a popcorn thriller rather than a profound exploration of trauma and silence.

A solid psychological thriller with an engaging mystery, but let’s not pretend it’s groundbreaking. The characters do their job, the setting could have been creepier, and the writing is straightforward but not exactly memorable. The twist is good but not great, and the book as a whole is the literary equivalent of a well-made but predictable crime drama. Entertaining? Absolutely. A masterpiece? Not so much.