"What I am telling you, before you begin my story, is this -- two things: I crave truth. And I lie." 
 This is one of those titles that is an experience from the beginning to the end. 
 My best friend and I both read this at the urging of a mutual friend. Said mutual friend is quite lovely and, alas, doesn't have her own Goodreads so I can appropriately credit her, and is a die-hard fan of Tana French. Since she knows that, outside of YA, I really enjoy a good thriller that will keep me up at night (literally - not just page-turning, but literally keep me up at night wondering if my closet door is opening slowly and ominously), she urged me to read this and see how it went. 
 This actually took two attempts. The first was with a library Kindle edition. I read tediously, remembering it and demolishing a few pages, and then forgetting it again and switching to something more familiar and - as odd as it may sound - lighter, along the lines of an Agatha Christie or a regency romance. 
 (Yes, Agatha Christie is a comfort read right alongside Courtney Milan or Jane Austen.) 
 Recently, Book Riot had a post in their Our Reading Lives series that talked about literary no-fly zones. My literary no-fly zone is violence against women and children. Not that I literally don't fly there (see previous allusions to the Queen of Mystery, who definitely never shrank from the dead body in the library/cupboard/what have you being a woman). It's just...a very visceral, uncomfortable, even tear-inducing experience, depending on how deeply and emotionally the author weaves it. Or if it's a woman in the fridge, violence for the heck of it sort of situation. No, thank you. 
 And particularly if it involves a kidnapped child. It's so painful. I can't even properly tell you why, though I know it has something to do with thinking about the poor child, the poor parents, the poor everyone involved - even the police officers who have to track down the responsible parties. 
 If your no-fly zone is similar...let me tell you that Tana French does not shy away from the visceral details. I think I'm going to have the aftertaste of the grand reveal in my mind for days, juxtaposed against the sudden shift in weather from balmy to rain within the hour I was in my last class - gray skies and justice for a murdered child, but not enough to bring her back or truly set things right. 
 And then, there is Rob. And Cassie. I fell in love with them both at the onset of the novel, and particularly with Rob as the narrator - and that made things more difficult. Like many fiction readers, I...do not do well when characters I like stumble into hard times. And Rob has a LOT of emotional baggage, seeing as he's the child left behind while his two best friends disappeared in a hazy afternoon of thick trees, leaving him behind with clotted blood in his shoes. 
 (view spoiler)[Particularly after a Thing happens between Rob and Cassie during the plot, I was super worried and kept bugging my friend if they'd be okay at the end of the novel - not just mentally or psychologically, but with each other, because one thing that wins you over is their camaraderie when you first meet them - the late-night sleepovers and the inside jokes and how they know when to protect each other. I hated the loss of that, because it is lost, but I could not completely mourn it or feel sorry for Rob. 
 Like I said, he has a lot of emotional baggage, and I was grateful to French for not making Cassie that type of meek female character a lot of Nice Guys (TM) would prefer who keeps making excuses, being emotionally battered and used and set aside and Puts Up With It for the sake of whatever bones he tosses her. Their friendship was real at the beginning, but as Rob unravels, you can really see how much he needs to fix within himself, and you can also see that a lot of him doesn't feel like he needs to fix it. 
 And even if I wasn't entirely sold on the Cassie-Sam thing, I was so proud of Cassie. Rob wasn't entitled to her time, her heart or her forgiveness. And she didn't give it. She moved on. (And if you don't think Rob was entitled at the end, calling her months after the fact, drunk and aware that she was engaged to another man in the squad, please. Please.) 
 Though, I really still wish their relationship could have stayed platonic. I'm a little tired of these stories where romance HAS to be the end game, no matter what. (hide spoiler)] 
 This story haunts. It's not just Rob's parts of it, trying to remember the events of the horrific day he seems to have blotted out for good, trying to find the lost trail of his friends as he solves a mystery on that same terrain. It's also Katy, the victim in the here and now. It's the backdrop of Irish politics and procedures, of changing atmospheres and allegiances and corruption and loyalty and at the heart of it, it's just a fascinating psychological exploration of the good, the bad and the ugly of people. 
 The thing that sells In the Woods so well is that, for all of Rob's occasionally poetic asides and reminiscing, it is real. Horrifyingly real. I have to admit that one day, in the middle of the crowded university library, just as the friend who recommended this parted ways with me as I waited for my mother to pick me up, I had to close the book. I set it aside, and I spent a few minutes soothing my anxiety and telling myself that I was perfectly fine. 
 It might seem a little silly. I feel a little silly admitting that. But it's a book that makes you feel uncomfortable. 
 In the end, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. I took a star off because I did figure out who the killer was, and because (view spoiler)[even though I could see the Cassie-Rob trainwreck coming, I held out hope that it wouldn't be a trainwreck - and, no matter what my mom says, I can be a hopeless optimist as well as she can(view spoiler)[. I should have written this review right as soon as I finished the last page, when I had a lot of eloquent reasons why you should read it or experience it if you enjoyed thrillers and mysteries and Ireland, and not just rambling, confused thoughts and an urge to check out the next book in the series. 
 To sum everything up: 
 1. I like Tana French's writing. 
 2. I like her characters. 
 3. I'm confused on everything else, except that it did bother me and it was very raw and real and too close for comfort. 
 4. I am probably going to read the next book in the series. 
 5. I should probably write reviews as soon as I finish a book, because all of this happens. And you question my sanity. (If people didn't know that I didn't drink, I think sometimes, I would have friends asking if I was drunk rather than if I was sleepy.) (hide spoiler)] (hide spoiler)]