In this novel, Abbott explores how the secrets we keep, both from others and from ourselves, continue to affect us. These include not only personal secrets, but those secrets we try to keep hidden as a community or culture, the stuff in the basement or the attic, the things we bury underground or put behind safety fences. Knowing that these secrets exist makes us paranoid: What else is being kept from us that could hurt us? And what about the good things? How do we celebrate if we keep even the good things hidden---or worse, if we only share the bad stuff? 
 There's also an element of what makes something real. In the social media age, there's "pics or it didn't happen," but what happens if we take seriously the notion that something we experienced isn't real unless it's shared by someone else? 
 I love the premise, but, although it seems authentic to how teens experience things, the format is a little too scattered for me to follow comfortably. And with a daughter on verge of her teen years, I can't quite love this novel. It's just a little too scary in a not-fun way for my parental sensibilities.