The Girl Upstairs by Jessica R. Patch (Harlequin)

Gwen McDaniel believes a fresh start in Maine and a big renovation might patch up her marriage. That’s the hook: a “monster house” perched on a cliff, pressing old wounds and stirring up new fears. Gwen, a former homicide detective, can’t ignore the floorboards, literally screaming secrets beneath her feet. But the real fight isn’t just about whatever’s hidden up in the attic. It’s about whether Gwen can trust her own mind, especially when her husband and her own history seem determined to turn her against herself.

Gwen stands out as a protagonist. She moves from seasoned investigator to a woman struggling just to be heard in her own house, and that shift feels genuine. Sure, the side characters could use a bit more dimension, but Gwen more than carries the story. Her growth stems from wrestling her detective instincts into alignment with her messy reality; a battle that resonates in a world where “gaslighting” has become part of everyday conversation.

The psychological weight on Gwen is palpable. She’s cracked open, humming with anxiety that shapes everything she does. Nowhere is that rawness clearer than in how fiercely she clings to her child. Her maternal instinct teeters on desperation, almost suffocating in its intensity. This child is her only real anchor as the world tilts around her, and that attachment pushes her right to the edge as the house starts to reveal its true nature.

The atmosphere is heavy with the kind of secrets small towns excel at keeping. Patch handles the "house of horrors" trope with a steady hand, focusing on the psychological toll of silence and cover-ups. We often see people in our own lives prioritizing a polished exterior over messy internal truths; this book holds a mirror up to that habit. It makes you wonder what you are willing to ignore to keep your own peace.

The writing doesn’t waste words. It’s clean, direct, and lets the tension do the work. Pacing keeps things moving, and while the ending might feel a little familiar to die-hard thriller fans, it still lands hard enough to make the ride worth it. Patch doesn’t chase cheap scares; instead, the story leans into the emotional chaos of its characters.

This is a 4/5 for me. It is unique in how it balances the "fixer-upper" fantasy with a genuine sense of dread. If you have ever felt like the walls were closing in, or if you have ever had to fight to be believed, you will find something here that resonates. It is a reminder that you can’t renovate your way out of the truth.

4/5