The pacing of this book is slow and the repetitive memory recall: Bones snap. Steel crunches. The sick thud of a skull slamming against the dashboard. Screams. A child cries that echos in nearly every chapter is no longer acting as an intriguing hook for the readers but an annoying directionless loop. I do not agree with Annie's mother's choice of words for her granddaughter but I do a agree with her observation that Tabby is spoiled and too American. Her sense of entitlement is normal for a teenager buy she lacks discipline and respect for her parents and authority. IF it was the goal of the author to make the daughter annoying, she succeed.

Annie's character is dealing with a secret trauma, on top of the loss of her mother and the psychological abuse she embedded within Annie throughout her life. Annie--from her Americanize version of her name Anh to her desires to be seen more than a first generation Vietnamese woman and a daughter of an odd, Vietnamese immigrant who made a name for herself at the hands of rich older white women who allowed her to take her art and make it a living. Or as a woman who married off well--both with her husbands looks, his money and status. Whether subconsciously or consciously, Annie is trying to hold on to this identity she has created for herself as a creative, a wife, and a mother.

In the same breath, readers are left to wonder if Annie's guilt over her mother's death is because she died at Annie's hands or if it has anything to do with something else entirely. I mean, I feel like I could go on and this is just 50+ pages into this book. 

Annie feels shame for her:
Mother's compulsive hoarding
Her mother's strict views
Not having the same mother daughter relationship as her close friend
Over not wanting to take care of her mother
Over not being able to have a close relationship with her own daughter

I am sure the list goes on.