It’s 1930, and famous movie star Garland Westover is dead. Gracie Perkins and six other girls in the steno pool at Kaplan Talking Pictures are the only people who know this; they are also covering up his murder. Keeping this all a secret proves especially hard for Gracie, a 21-year-old who had been conducting an affair with the older star. (“They had something special. It wasn’t just physical—he really understood her.”) When the studio frames Garland’s death as a suicide, Gracie thinks the whole thing is finally over, but LAPD detective Dominic “Nick” Zingarelli starts taking an interest. Though the case is officially closed, Nick is suspicious about the circumstances of Garland’s death—he’s also romantically interested in Gracie, who doesn’t know whether she should trust him. A second storyline moves back in time to follow Gracie in the past, starting with a traumatic sexual assault that got her kicked out of school (“she didn’t try to refute any of it. She sat entirely mute as Mr. Lyttle told Peggy that it would be best if Gracie dropped out of school. That way they would not have to expel her”) and detailing her journey to a career in stenography. (This narrative thread feels a little jarring until it becomes clear how it ties into the main story.) Bator effectively weaves a deeply felt theme about the consequences of silence in the face of sexual assault with the engaging elements of a mystery thriller. The romance between Gracie—a strong lead character whose willful denial is painfully relatable—and Nick begins tentatively. Gracie is distrustful of him, and her fear permeates their scenes together, but ultimately their relationship settles into something easy to root for.
