Massachusetts, Summer, 1951: When a boy drowns in the Charles River, a family is devastated, and the town of Norumbega is changed forever.
Eight years later, Frances Adams lives in the shadow of her dead brother, Mac. At her window dresser job, she befriends model Gwen, whose resemblance to Frances inspires her to reinvent herself. When Gwen vanishes into the river, Frances becomes obsessed with her memory. She transforms herself into Gwenâs likeness and feels an identity she has not felt before.
An investigation begins, and the police question three young men. Frances and friend Iris follow them to the riverside park, where one of the menâthe suspicious Harrisâmistakes Frances for Gwen. Intrigued by the idea of haunting him, she continues her secret pursuit, immersing herself in the case. As the mystery unravels, shocking revelations about its connection to a long-past family tragedy come to the surface.
Set in the haunting atmosphere of 1950s and 1970s New England, IN THE VANISHING HOUR weaves suspense and mystery into a story about loss, identity, and the secrets best left untold.
Massachusetts, Summer, 1951: When a boy drowns in the Charles River, a family is devastated, and the town of Norumbega is changed forever.
Eight years later, Frances Adams lives in the shadow of her dead brother, Mac. At her window dresser job, she befriends model Gwen, whose resemblance to Frances inspires her to reinvent herself. When Gwen vanishes into the river, Frances becomes obsessed with her memory. She transforms herself into Gwenâs likeness and feels an identity she has not felt before.
An investigation begins, and the police question three young men. Frances and friend Iris follow them to the riverside park, where one of the menâthe suspicious Harrisâmistakes Frances for Gwen. Intrigued by the idea of haunting him, she continues her secret pursuit, immersing herself in the case. As the mystery unravels, shocking revelations about its connection to a long-past family tragedy come to the surface.
Set in the haunting atmosphere of 1950s and 1970s New England, IN THE VANISHING HOUR weaves suspense and mystery into a story about loss, identity, and the secrets best left untold.
The body was found a few yards from the boathouse, under the bridge, where the Charles River took one of its wide, evasive turns. The boathouse caretaker discovered it when his paddle cut through the dark water and thumped against a heavy mass. In the moonlight, the man saw fleshy blue-white, gleaming like alabaster through a tangle of black, glistening weeds. What else could it be? he wondered about the huge, buoyant thing in the water. It clung to his paddle, and as he pushed it away, it sprang back. Then it huddled close to the canoe and stuck.
He tensed up. His heart pulsed in his hot ears. The chirp of peepers changed to a motor-like hum, and the carnival in the distance faded to a sour, undulating ring. It was as if all noise blended to a single, abstract sound, like the far-off buzz of a swarm of bees.
This was all he could remember on the night he spoke to the boathouse police. There were no details about the river current or the cars on the bridge nearby. He could only articulate the terror he felt as his canoe moved into the boathouse light, as he waited for the body to turn over. How he dreaded seeing the blue lips and glassy eyes, and that he would know the face.
Days later, the boyâs photograph appeared on the front page of the local tab. The man saw the curve of dark hair, the gentle brown eyes. A smile more innocent than he had imagined. He recalled the boyâs dead face, with the blurred colors of a Ferris wheel in the distance, swirling behind the tall black trees. He thought of all the souls lost to the river, and to its wooded bends and secret caves. And the boy whose memory would forever haunt Norumbega.
As late summer turned to a sudden, brittle autumn, a ghostly cloud moved in over the town, and all were haunted by Mac Adams. Most could only envision his boyhood portrait in the newspaper; it was the only face they knew. Others, who dared to wonder, imagined this face beneath a mesh of olive weeds in murky water. For the man who found him, this lifeless image was real, and he couldnât get it out of his head. He longed to see the boyâs living face, if only in his dreams.
The boathouse caretakerâs name would never make the headlines. He would not be rewarded for his nightmare on the water. Eyes that met him on the street would never understand that Norumbega, the river, and his entire life had changed forever.Â
In the Vanishing Hour is a haunting tale about loss, personal identity and the weight of dangerous secrets. When Frances Adams was about 12-years-old her older brother, Mac, mysteriously drowned. Feeling like her personal development was stunted and shadowed following her brothersâ sudden death, Frances went from being a bright, outspoken girl to a mouse of a woman. Feeling forever frumpy compared to her friend Iris and the models that she works with everyday at her department store job, Frances feels a light turn on inside her when a new girl, Gwen, shows interest in her. Not only do both girls look startlingly alike, but Gwen inspires Frances that maybe itâs time to finally grow into herself. When Gwen suddenly vanishes and assumedly drowns in a death that mysteriously seems to mirror Macâs death eight years earlier, Frances finds herself taking on the dead womanâs likeness and feeling a strength and fervor sheâs never felt before.Â
In the Vanishing Hour is told in a captivating tone between the alternating narrations of Frances and Harris. Harris was one of three young men who were considered persons of interest in Gwenâs death. Fifteen years after Gwenâs disappearance, Harris reluctantly returns to his hometown in order to take part in an architectural project for his job. Faced with not only his memories of that fuzzy night leading up to Gwenâs disappearance, Harris must also face two old acquaintances who represent a side of his younger self he wishes he could forget once and for all.Â
The book starts out with a punch: âThe body was found a few yards from the boathouse.â Right away, In the Vanishing Hour threw a hook to its audience that would be eagerly baited by readers. My favorite thing about the book was the mysterious air that seemed to pervade the entire story. As the chapters went on, I felt like there were a lot of instances where instead of admitting things directly, the book sort of forced me as a reader to come to my own conclusions and ask and answer my own questions. I felt like a detective trying to unravel the mysterious circumstances surrounding not only Gwenâs death, but Macâs. Throughout the book I just could never shake the feeling that the factors surrounding both deaths seemed too coincidental and similar. I kept waiting for new clues to be dropped so that I could pin them up on the corkboard in my mind. In the end, each new connection seemed to blend effortlessly into a bigger picture that was more intricate than you could have ever imagined.
In the Vanishing Hour is a soft thriller that plods at the strings of your mind to keep turning pages. The nagging regret lacing Harrisâ thoughts and the simmering curiosity of Francesâ culminate in a masterpiece of a book that hits home on the notion that the longer you hold onto dangerous secrets, the heavier they become.