Narrator #1 can't have kids. Narrator #2 has a baby. Narrator #3 is expecting one. Am I missing something? Oh, yeah. A narcopath. Recipe for disaster. 
 There's literally nothing to take away from this book other than what everyone already knows. What's that you ask? Here it is. CRAZY PEOPLE DO CRAZY THINGS. 
 The Girl on the Train was a load of twaddle. It's absolutely DEPRESSING to read. The women are DEPRESSING. The whole whodunnit mystery, which you can EASILY figure out if you know elementary math (common denominator in these women's lives), is DEPRESSING. 
 I HATE unreliable narration with a burning passion. It's the bane of my reading existence. I hated it in Gone Girl. I hated it in The Girl on the Train. I don't want to be lied to so I can be kept in the dark and then be thrown a "twist". Keep me on my toes the smart way, not the convenient way.