In her stunning debut novel, Kristen L. Berry weaves together the threads of a decades-old mystery with the contemporary struggles of a woman desperately seeking both family and motherhood. We Don’t Talk About Carol is a meticulously crafted thriller that transcends genre boundaries, offering readers a profound meditation on how family secrets can poison generations and how the pursuit of truth can become both salvation and destruction.
The story follows Sydney Singleton, a journalist whose discovery of a hidden photograph after her grandmother’s death sets her on a relentless quest to uncover the fate of her aunt Carol, one of six Black girls who vanished from North Carolina in the 1960s. Berry’s premise is both simple and devastating: what happens when the very act of seeking truth threatens to repeat the patterns that destroyed you before?
Character Development: Flawed but Fascinating
Sydney emerges as a complex protagonist whose obsessive tendencies make her both compelling and concerning. Berry skillfully develops Sydney’s character through her dual struggles with fertility treatments and her investigation into Carol’s disappearance. The parallels between Sydney’s desperate desire to create life and her compulsive need to unearth the dead create a psychological tension that drives the narrative forward.
Berry demonstrates remarkable insight into the psychology of obsession. Sydney’s previous “psychotic break” while working the McEwan case serves as both backstory and foreshadowing, creating an underlying dread that Berry maintains throughout the novel. The author’s portrayal of Sydney’s relationship with her husband Malik is particularly nuanced—their marriage feels authentic in its mixture of love, frustration, and the strain of unspoken expectations.
The supporting characters are equally well-drawn, particularly Carol herself when she finally appears as Mary Jones. Berry’s decision to reveal Carol’s survival midway through the novel could have deflated the tension, but instead creates new layers of complexity as readers grapple with understanding a woman who has lived under an assumed identity for sixty years.
Masterful Plot Construction
Berry structures her narrative with the precision of a seasoned thriller writer, despite this being her debut. The dual timeline approach—alternating between Sydney’s present-day investigation and glimpses into the 1960s—builds suspense while gradually revealing the horrific truth behind the disappearances.
The revelation that Michael Hall and Raymond Green were partners in their crimes is both shocking and inevitable, a testament to Berry’s skill in planting clues without telegraphing solutions. The author’s background research into the historical period is evident, and she handles the racial dynamics of 1960s North Carolina with appropriate gravity without letting them overshadow the personal story.
However, the novel occasionally suffers from pacing issues in its middle section. Some of Sydney’s investigative sequences feel repetitive, and Berry sometimes relies too heavily on convenient coincidences to move the plot forward. The ease with which Sydney locates key witnesses and obtains crucial information stretches credibility at times.
Thematic Depth and Social Commentary
Where We Don’t Talk About Carol truly excels is in its exploration of intergenerational trauma and the ways family secrets metastasize across generations. Berry doesn’t simply use the missing girls as a plot device; she grounds their disappearances in the very real statistical reality that Black Americans are disproportionately represented among missing persons cases—a fact she acknowledges in her author’s note.
The novel’s treatment of motherhood is particularly sophisticated. Sydney’s fertility struggles create a parallel narrative about the desire to create and nurture life while simultaneously confronting the reality of lives lost. The author draws subtle connections between Sydney’s inability to conceive and her family’s inability to speak truthfully about their losses.
Berry also explores the concept of chosen versus blood family through Carol’s transformation into Mary Jones. The life Carol builds for herself—complete with a loving husband, successful son, and meaningful work—raises complex questions about whether sometimes the kindest act is to sever toxic family ties entirely.
Writing Style: Immersive and Emotionally Intelligent
Berry’s prose is clear and engaging, with a particular strength for dialogue that feels natural and revealing of character. She has an excellent ear for the rhythms of family conversation and the careful negotiations that occur when people are hiding parts of themselves from those they love.
The author’s background in journalism serves her well in crafting Sydney’s investigative sequences. The procedural elements feel authentic without becoming dry or technical. Berry also demonstrates skill in handling sensitive subject matter—the violence against the missing girls is horrific but never exploitative.
One minor criticism is that Berry occasionally over-explains emotional states that are already clear from context. Some passages would benefit from trusting readers to infer meaning from action and dialogue rather than spelling out characters’ internal processes.
Critical Assessment: Ambitious but Not Flawless
We Don’t Talk About Carol is an ambitious debut that largely succeeds in its goals. Berry tackles weighty themes without losing sight of the human story at the novel’s center. The resolution, while satisfying, feels somewhat rushed after the careful buildup of the first two-thirds of the book.
The novel’s greatest strength is its emotional authenticity. Berry understands that trauma doesn’t simply disappear with the passage of time—it evolves, adapts, and finds new ways to manifest across generations. Sydney’s journey isn’t just about solving a mystery; it’s about breaking cycles of silence and shame that have defined her family for decades.
The book’s treatment of the fertility storyline deserves particular praise. Rather than using IVF as mere plot seasoning, Berry integrates Sydney’s struggles with conception into the larger themes about family, legacy, and the lengths we’ll go to create the families we need.
Comparison to Similar Works
We Don’t Talk About Carol occupies similar territory to authors like Attica Locke and Tana French, combining atmospheric mystery writing with incisive social commentary. Like Locke’s Bluebird, Bluebird, Berry’s novel uses a contemporary investigation to illuminate historical injustices, while the psychological complexity of Sydney recalls French’s complex protagonists.
The book also shares DNA with recent novels exploring family secrets across generations, such as The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid, though Berry’s work is grittier and more grounded in social realism.
Final Verdict
Despite some minor flaws in pacing and occasional heavy-handedness in exposition, We Don’t Talk About Carol announces Kristen L. Berry as a significant new voice in contemporary fiction. The novel succeeds as both a gripping mystery and a profound exploration of how families create and carry trauma across generations.
Berry has written a book that honors the real-world tragedies that inspired it while crafting a compelling narrative about the power of truth-telling to both wound and heal. For readers who appreciate mysteries that dig deep into character psychology and social issues, this debut offers rich rewards.
The novel’s ending, which brings multiple storylines to satisfying conclusions while acknowledging that some wounds never fully heal, demonstrates Berry’s maturity as a storyteller. We Don’t Talk About Carol is ultimately about the courage required to speak truth into silence, even when that truth threatens to destroy the speaker.
Books for Similar Reading
If you enjoyed We Don’t Talk About Carol, consider these titles:
- Bluebird, Bluebird by Attica Locke – Another powerful mystery exploring racial dynamics in the American South
- The Hunter by Tana French – For psychological complexity and atmospheric mystery writing
- Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn – For unreliable narrators and marriage under pressure
- What Time the Sexton’s Spade Doth Rust by Alan Bradley – For family secrets spanning generations
- Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng – For stories about secrets that tear families apart
We Don’t Talk About Carol by Kristen L. Berry is published by Bantam Books and represents a promising debut from an author who clearly has much more to offer the literary world.