Sadie

At the time I'm writing this review, it's been a couple of days since I finished Sadie, and I still haven't fully processed it. This is one of those stories that seeps into your bones somewhere along the way, and it changes the way you look at the world a little. It is the best mystery—and one of the best books, period—that I have ever read, and it is also one of the bleakest, most devastating reading experiences of my life. If you have read any of my reviews then you know I am very picky with what I choose to pick up. I actually saw this on a BookTube channel and Chelsea did such a good job convincing me that this story is worth the time that I had to pick it up.

You know, going into this story, that Sadie's little sister's body has just been found, and Sadie is on a mission to track down the man she believes is responsible. Besides the fact that it's a story partially told through podcast episodes (which is such an incredible touch), that's all you really need to know. This isn't about what happens so much as it is about coming to know and love Sadie—and to know and love Mattie, too, through her memories. It's about recognizing that the society we live in has this terrifying, grimy layer that nobody wants to talk about, where little girls are never really safe, and children are forced to grow up way too fast, to become adults in replacement of the parents they didn't ask for. Most of all it touched me to the core because it is so believable that it could easily happen to so many of todays young children.

With a mother suffering from addiction, a community that looked the other way far too many times, and a life of barely keeping food on the table, much less having any real opportunities to succeed, Sadie feels like such an old soul. I don't know how many readers will struggle to relate to the age of her inner monologue, but from another woman whose circumstances never quite allowed me to feel like a child, I saw so much of myself in the cynical, pragmatic way Sadie views the world around her. I am not niave to the world around me I know that my mother did an awesome job with me and my sister but I was never really accepted by others easily.

It's hard enough to grow up poor and in a broken family, but Sadie's also queer—she doesn't label herself, but explains her sexuality in ways that heavily point to pansexuality—and she stutters, which forms a barricade between her and the rest of the world. Her representation feels so valid and genuine, and it broke my heart every time she mused about how imprisoned she felt by her struggles with speech.

More than anything else about Sadie's character, though, I loved the fierce, maternal determination she has for taking care of Mattie—and, once Mattie is gone, for finding her killer and dishing out justice. Every memory of Mattie, whether told through her view of their adopted grandmother May Beth's, is beautiful and haunting. The tremendous amount of guilt that Sadie carries as she blames herself for what went wrong had me completely breaking down in passages, and I'll admit without shame that I read the last several chapters through tears. The most brutal part of it all is that, somehow, it feels like Sadie's story could be based on a real girl—no, on countless real girls, all over the world.

Without spoiling the plot, I want to warn you that this book focuses heavily on child abuse and sexual assault, and it is broken down in the most honest, agonizing ways. There's also a solid portrayal of how deceptive abusers can be, as the abusers in question are shown to have fooled so many people. But there's also another side to the representation here, as we see Sadie's intense solidarity with other abused girls, and her desperate need to protect and defend them, even though (perhaps especially though) she feels that she failed to protect and defend her sister.

There's not much else I can tell you now, because I think it's the kind of story that you should go into without too many expectations. Just climb in, let Sadie take you for a ride and tell you her story, and try not to let your heart get too broken in the process. This is a phenomenal story, and I know that I will be thinking about it for a long, long time to come.