Model Home tells the story of three siblings, haunted by the horrors they were subject to in their childhood home. In the wake of their parents' death, the siblings are forced to confront the memories that plague them.

Rivers Solomon weaves a bleak and devastating tale of trauma and grief, and how such grief causes not only the trauma to resurface but also all that you wished could be. Each sibling is continually affected by the events that transpired, haunted in difference ways: Ezri, a non binary parent with a host of mental health diagnoses, whose teenage daughter has to fend for herself when they dissociate; Eve, a wise and bossy perfectionist yearning for control; Emmanuel, masquerading as functioning, even successful, despite being a neurotic clusterfuck of emotion. No one believed them when they said their house was haunted. No one helped. No one came to save them. The siblings splintered due to their childhood experiences, suffering with mental and physical scars. In the wake of grief, a family can fracture and re-form. As I'm discovering in my own grief, you discover things you wish you knew earlier, and things you wish you could forget. Model Home tells a story of generational trauma, history repeating itself, and what can be learnt from examining our ghosts. Though the torment can be familiar, especially with a mother for whom you were never good enough, we realise that anyone has the capacity to hurt us and it's important to reckon with the intersection of torment this young, black family was subject to. It's devastating and cruel and destructive. It's pervasive, even if you didn't know what it was. It haunts. It leeches away life. Does it feed on what it takes? In the end, what's left of us? I deeply understand the doubt of not knowing what's real, the fear of being unable to remember, and the hurt when people blame you. Things may go bump in the night, if only they stayed there.

"Instead, I’m a vessel of ghosts, the me’s that died, the me’s that never could be, unbound by time, by social graces."

It's important to note the serious issues tackled here: abuse, grief, and racism, among others. Rivers Solomon handles these topics with care, which is something I have now come to expect. From the two books of theirs I have now read, they write LGBT+ characters (and characters in general) extremely well. They depict trauma, mental illness, and grief expertly, weaving a story with poetically relatable prose (yet another book full of highlights). I have only given 4 stars as I found it was largely interpersonal dynamics, relationships, and conversations, with a slower pace than I prefer. I did also note many speech marks missing which made it harder to read. As is typical for me, I wanted more overt horror, but I enjoyed the story overall. As you progress, the dread mounts because you know what's going on, you know the trauma and the abuse that's occurred but has been pushed down to cope. Pushed down so deep you can barely reach it. It doesn’t matter that you can see it coming. It will still hit you like a train.

"The realization that validation of the pain will never come from those who inflicted the pain has the power to obliterate. Did it happen? If they’re not apologizing, if they’re not admitting they’ve done it, did they do it? What is real? What is true? Is my life a fantasy? Then let me wake up by dying."

Sometimes people are what haunts the house. Sometimes people are the monsters under the bed.

Thank you to NetGalley for the ARC.