We often say that lies take on a life of their own. Sarah Beth Durst does a deep dive into this concept with her book, The Lies Among Us.

To say that Leah Allen’s relationship with her late mother was complicated is to understate the situation. Her mother’s flexible view of reality did actual damage to Leah’s life, costing her relationships and opportunities and, worst of all, destroying their family. Leah leaves her mother’s funeral not grieving, only angry that she has a ton of work to do regarding settling her mother’s estate – work that is complicated by the fact that her mother left half to Leah’s sister, Hannah.

During the funeral, Hannah slides into her mother’s casket, drawing minimal comfort from her dead body. Hannah had spent all her time with her mom, following her as she ran errands and accompanying her as she puttered about the house. Now Hannah has no idea what to do with herself. At a loss as to where to be and who to be with, she follows her sister Leah.

That doesn’t prove to be very wise. Vitriol spills from Leah’s lips regarding her mother as Leah vents to her boyfriend about all her parent had put her through. It’s also clear Leah resents Hannah’s existence and always has. Hannah knows she is unusual – after all, no one sees or hears her, she can slide through walls and doors, and when she goes anywhere without her family, she is hunted by dark wolves determined to destroy her. Given all that, Hannah is deeply confused and concerned as to what will happen to her now that their mother is dead. Determined to give herself a chance at survival, Hannah musters up the courage to leave Leah and look for answers as to what she is and how she can survive.

This story works best when it focuses on Leah. We are with her as she struggles through the complicated dance of dealing with her mother’s estate and her own conflicted feelings surrounding it. A pragmatic, sometimes acerbic individual, she finds the tough shell she’s encased herself in crumbling under the onslaught of emotions clearing her mother’s house brings on. The examination here of abuse that is in no way physical and from people who love you (selfishly and on their own terms but with genuine emotion) is amazing. I appreciated how the portrayal of Leah’s parents shows how very dysfunctional they were in a way that rarely triggered alarms for outsiders and that fell well within the boundaries of what is legal. The depiction of how Leah was left emotionally scarred but feeling like she was somehow at fault for that because she wasn’t mentally strong enough to deal with her parent’s craziness is fabulous. I found myself especially moved by the section that dealt with college, with both adults in her life failing her so thoroughly. I loved how Leah shows both the astounding strength and resilience of abused children while also perfectly encapsulating their internal fragility.

The secondary characters in Leah’s life are lovely people who remind us that good people exist alongside the bad. Her boyfriend Jamie, with his compassionate understanding of Leah’s demons and patience with her as she struggles to work through her issues, is #relationshipgoals. Her best friend, Jersey, is the kind of companion we all wish we had – someone who gets what we’ve been through, what it has cost us, and how much support we need (and don’t need) on the road to recovery.

I found the story of Hannah, her path to self-discovery, and the friends she makes along the way far less intriguing. The investigation into what it means to be real, what defines our existence, and what constitutes truth is both underdeveloped and overinflated at the same time. Underdeveloped in that we don’t go deeply enough into how this affects real lives and overinflated in that the fantasy portion seems to give the issue meaning beyond that which it has in reality.

My other quibble with the tale is that the magical surrealism/paranormal element surrounding Hannah isn’t drawn with the level of consistency needed to really flesh out this portion of the story. How her mother pulled off the charade as long as she did isn’t explained, especially given that they lived in a situation where the neighbors would have seemingly caught on. I thought perhaps the wolves might tie into that, but they, too, go primarily unexplained and needed a bit more finessing to make them fully realized and understood.

Fortunately, the author is an experienced writer whose smooth prose, rich imagery, and astute characterizations make reading her books a pleasure. You won’t really notice the flaws until you are at the end of the narrative and thinking things through.

The Lies Among Us had the potential for greatness, but the exposition on what it is like to live with an habitual liar is derailed by utilizing a paranormal element that tells an interesting but ultimately meaningless story.

Those who have suffered emotional or mental abuse at the hands of a pathological liar will rarely find representation that confirms their experience with the veracity of The Lies Among Us. While the book’s fantasy/paranormal elements keep the story from being a DIK, Leah’s story is still an insightful look at this troubling subject.