Harrow weaves an atmospheric story about something that can not be properly labeled as a “haunted house” without losing the layers of life and mystique that it deserves. It’s practically a southern gothic folktale, but I fear that description will deter people from what this book actually is: an unstoppable force colliding with an immovable object. Opal is starved, chaotic, and lonely, making her a wild card for the occupant(s) of Starling House. I’m impressed at Harrow’s ability to write such an angry yet likable character. My only gripe with this story is that communication does not exist in it at all. Not one time does a character communicate. Not even the side characters. After a while, this gap begins to feel kind of silly. That being said, I enjoyed the ride. The romance is an inevitable slow drip, making the journey tender. Opal is an, “if you die I’ll kill you” and Arthur is the kind to be bleeding out on the floor only thinking, “oh god, she’s gonna kill me.” Big fan.