Kirkus
Copyright © Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

This Washington thriller achieves suspense mostly through misdirection. At one point, a character wonders what another is really up to, but most of the characters here actually have hidden agendas. Case in point: Avery Chambers. As a therapist, she’s gone rogue, having lost her license thanks to unorthodox methods that include a combination of detective work, with all the data-mining and surveillance that entails, and prescriptive advice. She tells clients what to do—and sometimes does it for them. Matthew Bishop, a high-powered Washington lawyer, and Marissa, his wife, come to Avery for help. At the first session, Marissa confesses to infidelity with, she lies, a guy from her gym. Suddenly, this “curated Instagram” marriage is on the rocks. Can Avery salvage the relationship in her trademark 10 sessions and done? She cases the gym in question, the Bishops' opulent residence in Chevy Chase, Maryland, and looks into Marissa’s boutique and her slightly unhinged shop assistant, Polly. There's more to Marissa’s story than meets the eye, Avery thinks, somewhat superfluously. The truth could explode any chance of reconciliation. At times, Avery’s tactics seem unusually cruel, even sexist: She busts up one marriage where the wife is unduly controlling but appears to ignore her own initial suspicion that Matthew might be that way, too. Avery’s intrusiveness has made enemies, among them drug company Acelia, which she’s reported to the FDA on behalf of one of her clients who hesitated to be a whistleblower. The Acelia subplot feels superfluous, but it must be pivotal, because it takes up so much space while telling elements of backstory are withheld. There are some sharply observed class dynamics, and the final reversal is unexpected—but only because it is not foreshadowed. There’s a thin line between gaslighting characters and gaslighting readers, and this novel crosses it. Replete with “huh?” moments. Copyright © Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.