Olivia Foster hasn’t felt alive since her little brother drowned in the backyard pool three years ago. Then Kara Hallas moves in across the street with her mother and grandmother, and Olivia is immediately drawn to these three generations of women. Kara is particularly intoxicating, so much so that Olivia not only comes to accept Kara’s morbid habit of writing to men on death row, she helps her do it. They sign their letters as the Resurrection Girls.

But as Kara’s friendship pulls Olivia out of the dark fog she’s been living in, Olivia realizes that a different kind of darkness taints the otherwise lively Hallas women—an impulse that is strange, magical, and possibly deadly. 

Thanks so much to Edelweiss for the eARC of this book! I had expected a spooky read, but instead found a supernatural dissection of grief. It deals with very heavy subject matter in a respectful and real way; after reading the book I did some research on the author and found that she had lost one of her children, and she states in the afterword that she did not start this book as a victim of such loss, but she unfortunately found herself in its midst by the end. This is evident in the heart-wrenching truth you can feel from these characters. All shades of grief are represented here, and the journey to a place of well-being is not rushed or candy coated.

We are introduced to Olivia, who had lost her brother some three months prior. Despite the time that has passed, she and her family are prisoners to their sadness: she barely leaves her home, her father is always at work, and her mother is drugged out of her mind. Through the fog of her pain, Olivia sees a group of women moving in to the vacant house across from hers. She is automatically drawn to this grandmother, mother, and daughter, and does not waste time getting a closer look. She is greeted by first Sybil, the blind grandmother who claims to see her better than anyone else ever could, then Rhea, the charming and bright mother. The family feels off, but in an intriguing way. So when Kara, the daughter, seeks Olivia out for a walk together, she does not refuse.

Thus begins a friendship that changes something in Olivia. The more time she spends with Kara, the more alive she feels. She starts to talk about her brother, Robby, again and stands up to their parents as they continue to try and live in their stupor. She assists Kara as she writes letters to inmates at prisons far and wide, dubbing themselves the Resurrection Girls because they aspire to be a beacon of hope for these men with the promise of death looming in the distance. Kara ends up going too far, and Olivia breaks, causing her family to take a step back and remember that they did not die with Robby. A piece of them did, but they can let that piece go like a rotten appendage and grapple their way out of the darkness.

I love that Ava takes us by the hand and leads us through these stages of grief that are showcased by different characters. We see depression, we see rage, we even see the bliss of rebirth. These people are all touched by death, and they have to each find their way out of it. We have some that ask for help, others that have a scare of their own that wakes them up, and by the end of the novel you can begin to see the sun as it begins to rise after a nighttime that has lasted for ages. The families were all so compelling in their own way, but I have a special place in my heart for the Hallas. I hope we meet them again someday.

5/5 stars