Count My Lies

Count My Lies is the kind of psychological thriller that reminds you why compulsive books are a gift. There’s nothing quite like tearing through pages, utterly engrossed, as tension builds and secrets unravel. And for a while, this one delivers.

Sloane Caraway, a chronic liar whose many, many small deceptions usually serve no greater purpose than making her seem more interesting, spins an on-the-fly lie—pretending to be a nurse to comfort a child—which she massages into a gig as a nanny for a wealthy New York couple. Violet and Jay Lockhart are glamorous, curated, and—it is a thriller, after all—not remotely who they seem. As Sloane embeds herself deeper into their world, she starts transforming—mirroring Violet’s looks, her mannerisms, her life. But the course of true lies never did run smooth, and before you can say Gone Girl, her plan has spun wildly out of control.

It is not a lie to say I blew off any number of things I really needed to do in order to read this book. For most of its pages, Count My Lies veers close to thriller perfection—it’s fast, voyeuristic, and laced with just the right amount of dread. But then the final pages arrive like an ill-timed plot twist in real life: jarring, unbelievable, and frustratingly preachy. A truly great thriller earns its ending; this one mistakes escalation for payoff.

None of the leads are remotely likable. Sloane has the ethics of a self-absorbed grifter, Violet is the kind of woman I’d never invite to my book club, and Jay is man at his horndog worst. And yet, I kept reading. Maybe I was rooting for their comeuppance, or maybe Stava just knows how to pen compelling bounders. Either way, I was in.

And, without any spoilers, the midbook twist has been done better elsewhere.

But do I recommend it? Well—here’s the thing. Books that make you turn the pages as fast as you can are a gift. But when they sabotage themselves with a ridiculous ending, they land in that purgatory: not quite worth returning, but not the kind you press into your best friend’s hands, insisting they have to read it. If you love a fast, twisty thriller with an unreliable narrator, Count My Lies is worth the ride. Just expect to roll your eyes at the destination.