The Last Room on the Left delivers exactly what readers of psychological thrillers crave: a remote setting, unreliable narrators, and the constant question of what’s real versus what’s imagined. Leah Konen, author of previous thrillers like Keep Your Friends Close and All the Broken People, returns with perhaps her most disorienting and atmospheric work yet—a claustrophobic tale set during a blizzard at a retro-modern motel that would be Instagram-worthy if it weren’t possibly harboring a killer.
When alcoholic writer Kerry Walsh arrives at the Twilite Motel to serve as its winter caretaker, she’s already at rock bottom: her marriage has collapsed, she’s failed to write the novel that earned her a massive advance, and she’s just starting to get sober. The isolated Catskills motel seems like the perfect place to reset and finally finish her book. Instead, she finds the previous caretaker’s room in disarray, evidence of a wild party, and then—most disturbing of all—what appears to be a frozen hand reaching out from beneath the snow.
What follows is a masterclass in tension-building as Kerry discovers that no one believes what she’s seen. The local police dismiss her claims, the body vanishes, and Kerry begins to question her own sanity. Is this just another alcohol-induced hallucination, like the false positive pregnancy test she once convinced herself she saw? Or is something far more sinister happening at this picture-perfect motel?
Shifting Perspectives and Frozen Truths
Konen makes the bold choice to split the narrative between Kerry’s present-day experience and flashbacks from a month earlier told from the perspective of Siobhan, the previous caretaker. This dual timeline structure could easily become confusing, but Konen handles it deftly, using it to slowly peel back layers of deception.
The reveal that the frozen body belongs not to Siobhan (as Kerry initially believes) but to Siobhan’s friend Allison arrives with perfect timing, forcing both Kerry and the reader to recalibrate their understanding of events. It’s a twist that works because it doesn’t feel manufactured; instead, it emerges organically from Kerry’s own misconceptions and the careful groundwork laid throughout the first half of the novel.
One of the book’s greatest strengths is how it taps into primal fears:
- The terror of isolation during a natural disaster
- The anxiety of not being believed when you know you’ve seen something terrible
- The horror of questioning your own perception of reality
These psychological elements elevate what could have been a standard thriller into something more unsettling and memorable.
Characters Trapped by More Than Snow
The characters in The Last Room on the Left are complex and deeply flawed, which makes them all the more compelling. Kerry, our primary protagonist, is in many ways an unlikeable character—she’s self-destructive, she’s betrayed people who care about her, and she often chooses the path of least resistance. Yet Konen manages to make her sympathetic through her unflinching portrayal of addiction and the genuine remorse Kerry feels for her past actions.
The supporting cast is equally well-drawn:
- Siobhan – Kerry’s former friend and the previous caretaker, harboring her own secrets and resentments
- Allison – The victim whose ambition and bluntness led to fatal consequences
- Tyler – The seemingly helpful local handyman whose artistic aspirations mask a dangerous rage
- Jeremy – The wealthy neighbor whose predatory behaviors lurk beneath a veneer of sophistication
- McKenzie – The teenage squatter whose presence adds another layer of mystery
Each character feels distinct and three-dimensional, with motivations that extend beyond moving the plot forward. The complicated history between Kerry, Siobhan, and Charlie (Siobhan’s ex-boyfriend) is particularly well-handled, exploring how betrayal can permanently alter relationships.
A Chilling Atmosphere That Transcends Setting
The setting of the Twilite Motel deserves recognition as essentially another character in the novel. Konen has created a place that feels both familiar and unsettling:
“The place was a retro-modern Instagram dream. I’d seen plenty of photos, of course, had trolled through the Twilite Motel’s carefully curated grid, dreaming of cozy, tucked-away spaces that would revive my floundering writing practice, but even those hadn’t done it justice.”
This juxtaposition of the motel’s carefully curated aesthetic against the brutal realities of winter isolation creates a fascinating tension that runs throughout the book. The Twilite represents the gap between how we present ourselves to the world and the messier truths we hide—a theme that resonates with all the major characters.
The growing snowstorm amplifies the tension, cutting off power and communication while simultaneously making escape impossible. Konen uses this classic horror setup to maximum effect, letting the reader feel the increasing desperation as options dwindle.
Stylistic Choices: Successes and Stumbles
Konen’s prose is propulsive and effective, maintaining tension while still allowing for moments of introspection. The first-person narration from Kerry’s perspective is immediate and engaging, pulling readers into her increasingly frantic state of mind. The flashback chapters from Siobhan’s point of view provide necessary context while building toward the revelation of what actually happened the night of the party.
Where the novel occasionally stumbles is in its pacing. The middle section, particularly as Kerry cycles through discoveries and denials about the body, sometimes feels repetitive. A tighter edit might have maintained the mounting tension without the slight sense of treading water that occurs before the revelations begin to accelerate.
Additionally, some readers might find the conclusion—with its rapid-fire revelations and confrontations—slightly rushed compared to the careful building of atmosphere and doubt in the earlier chapters. However, this accelerated pace does effectively mirror Kerry’s own experience of events spiraling beyond her control.
Themes That Linger Like Frost
Beyond its thriller elements, The Last Room on the Left explores several thought-provoking themes:
- The unreliability of perception – Kerry’s struggle to determine what’s real versus what might be alcohol-induced hallucination creates a compelling exploration of how we construct and trust our own reality.
- The consequences of addiction – The novel offers an unflinching look at how addiction destroys relationships and distorts judgment.
- The gap between curated appearances and messy realities – From the Instagram-perfect motel to the characters’ carefully managed personas, the novel constantly reminds us how what we present to the world rarely matches the truth.
- The violence that can emerge from wounded male ego – Tyler’s deadly reaction to Allison’s laughter at his writing offers a chilling commentary on the dangers women face when challenging male self-perception.
These layered themes elevate the book beyond a simple whodunit into territory that lingers in the mind long after the final page.
How It Stacks Up: Comparison with Similar Works
Fans of isolated winter thrillers like Ruth Ware’s One by One or Lucy Foley’s The Hunting Party will find much to enjoy here, though Konen puts a distinctive spin on the subgenre by incorporating the unreliable narrator element so central to works like A.J. Finn’s The Woman in the Window.
The book also shares DNA with Stephen King’s The Shining in its exploration of isolation and questionable perception, though with a distinctly female perspective that focuses less on supernatural horror and more on the very real dangers women face from men who feel entitled to their attention and approval.
Compared to Konen’s previous work, The Last Room on the Left feels more atmospheric and psychologically complex, showing growth in her ability to maintain tension while developing nuanced character relationships.
Final Verdict: A Chilling Winter Read
Its strengths—atmospheric setting, complex characters, and clever structure—outweigh its occasional pacing issues. The novel succeeds not just as a thriller but as an exploration of guilt, redemption, and the human capacity for both self-deception and growth.
Konen has crafted a book that works on multiple levels: as a page-turning mystery, as a character study of women struggling with their own demons, and as a commentary on how we construct narratives about ourselves and others. The novel’s final epilogue—showing Allison’s last moments from her own perspective—delivers a gut punch that recontextualizes everything that came before.
For thriller readers seeking a wintry escape with psychological depth and genuine surprises, The Last Room on the Left offers a compelling destination—just be sure to check the freezer before settling in.
Recommendation
Perfect for fans of:
- Ruth Ware’s isolated mysteries
- The unreliable narrators of Gillian Flynn
- Character-driven thrillers that examine female friendship and betrayal
- Winter settings that become characters in their own right
Ideal reading conditions:
- During a snowstorm, wrapped in blankets
- With a non-alcoholic version of your favorite cocktail (the book may inspire sobriety!)
- When you’re in the mood for a thriller that doesn’t sacrifice character development for shock value
Pick up The Last Room on the Left if you’re ready to question what’s real, what’s imagined, and whether redemption is possible even after the worst betrayals.