Nothing happens in WakefieldâŠ
But Josephine âJoâ Ligaya wakes up to find Alexa Ocampo, standing next to her window, black hair illuminated by the moonlight, gazing out of the frosted glass. No reason exists in Joâs solitary world for the cheerleader to be in her roomâexcept for one. She died and found her way to the young medium. The missing girl. Dead at eighteen.
Night Orchid is a mystery novel about a high school loner and a popular jock joining forces to find the remains of a murdered teen with only communications from the dead as their guide.
Itâs Ghost Whisperer but with hot-tempered teenagers and a badass female protagonist. Get ready for a wild ride.
*Strong language, sexual innuendos and violence. Night Orchid touches on mental health issues and unhealthy coping mechanisms (ie: alcohol abuse, drugs, a habit that resembles cutting). Please take caution if any of these themes trigger you.
Nothing happens in WakefieldâŠ
But Josephine âJoâ Ligaya wakes up to find Alexa Ocampo, standing next to her window, black hair illuminated by the moonlight, gazing out of the frosted glass. No reason exists in Joâs solitary world for the cheerleader to be in her roomâexcept for one. She died and found her way to the young medium. The missing girl. Dead at eighteen.
Night Orchid is a mystery novel about a high school loner and a popular jock joining forces to find the remains of a murdered teen with only communications from the dead as their guide.
Itâs Ghost Whisperer but with hot-tempered teenagers and a badass female protagonist. Get ready for a wild ride.
*Strong language, sexual innuendos and violence. Night Orchid touches on mental health issues and unhealthy coping mechanisms (ie: alcohol abuse, drugs, a habit that resembles cutting). Please take caution if any of these themes trigger you.
Josephine slid her palm along Glen Park Residential Treatmentâs icy surface as she followed her parents. Dr. Suttworth, a tall, gaunt man, strolled beside them as he praised the renovations on the building. As they drifted further into the facility, the staccato rhythm of her motherâs heels reached her ears as they hit the cement floor. She preferred this noise over the adultsâ conversations, which could have been Morse code. She shifted her attention again to the wall and focused on the painted bears and flowers.
âWe seek to make this facility more homelike,â said Dr. Suttworth.
She turned upon hearing the word âhome,â and saw him point a skeletal finger at the murals.
âAs you can see,â he continued, âOur interior decorators hired local artists to paint these lovely illustrations. We prefer to stay away from the stark white walls that usually grace theâŠâ
âPsych wards?â asked her father with a huff. Her mother gave him a disapproving glance, but he ignored her and chuckled.
Josephine wrinkled her nose. She didnât know what her dad meant, but the building did not remind her of home. The mural was creepy, and the smells of rubbing alcohol and baby powder made her nauseous. She wished she could interrupt their conversations and ask when theyâd be leaving.
âHow old is she?â asked Dr. Suttworth. Though he stood facing her, his eyes never lowered her way and kept his gaze focused on her parents. She scowled and had the urge to stick her tongue at him. Knowing her motherâs swift hands, she covered her mouth to prevent herself from doing it.
She inspected him this time. Thin, pale, hollow cheeks and iceberg cheekbones. He reminded her of an undertaker. She spun around and shuddered.
âEight,â said her mother, without glancing at her.
Josephine pursed her lips. She wanted to scream, âIâm not an auction item!â But she kept her mouth shut. An overwhelming dread engulfed her, and she started looking for the exit sign, but her mom grabbed her elbow as if reading her mind.
They turned the corner to a dimmer hallway. The walls were bare, and the paint was peeling. Josephine didnât hear the doctor explain that this was the older side of the building, because the flickering lights stole her attention. She glanced at her parents, but they continued with their conversation with no mention of the strange light show above them.
âWell, here we are,â said Dr. Suttworth. âPlease come in.â He held the door as he waited. This time, she didnât dawdle and entered at once. She wanted out of that hallway.
Josephine adjusted her eyes to a room with bright fluorescent lights, bare walls, and a black sofa. A girl sat at the end of the couch, which caught her by surprise. As she stood near the doorway, the doctor instructed her to take a seat while leading her parents to his private office. She beelines to the settee and clutched her pea coat against her body to block the sudden chill.
âHi.â She turned to the slight girl with chestnut hair and tight ringlets. Her white frilly dress, socks and black Mary Jane shoes were outdated, but they were clean and crisp. She ignored Josephine and kept her eyes glued to the wall in front of her.
âDonât enjoy talking either, huh?â said Josephine, rubbing her frigid hands on her thighs. âI donât blame you.â
As she turned away, she noticed Dr. Suttworthâs door ajar. She leaned forward and focused on the bits of information leaking outside his office.
ââŠÂ talks to herself⊠about two months⊠seeing things that arenât there⊠scratches on her bodyâŠâ
âsigns and symptoms⊠schizophrenia⊠medicationsâŠâ
Josephine glanced at the scrapes on her arm. She was playing with another schoolgirl at the playground. Then the girl panicked, causing twigs to fly, and hit her body. Unbeknownst to Josephine, her mom was watching her and was not seeing her playmate. Her mother insisted that she was talking to herself, her emotions rising when she saw the red marks on her daughterâs skin. She was on the phone faster than a runaway bullet, telling the person on the other line that her daughter was hurting herself besides having hallucinations.
Josephine later found herself in a cramped, sterile room, where a medical team started asking her many strange questions. She remembered feeling unheard despite the doctors nodding and scribbling on their notepads.
She angled to her companion. âWhatâs your name?â
The girl flinched as if finally hearing her. Then her head turned in an unhurried fashion. When their gazes locked, Josephineâs breath hitched as she registered her silvery skin and vacant black eyes. The temperature dropped even lower, and goosebumps now covered her arms. The girlâs mouth opened, revealing a gaping hole that tunneled into a dark abyss.
Josephine screamed, and her parents came running two seconds later. She pointed to the little girl, but she couldnât get her words out.
âSheâs doing it again!â Her mother cried. She turned to Dr. Suttworth. âI donât care what you do, but do not bring her back to us until youâve fixed her!â
Dr. Suttworth took his radio and requested staff to run to his office. Within minutes, two men in scrubs grabbed Josephineâs arms. In panic, she flailed, kicked and demanded for her release. âMama! Theyâre hurting me! Get them off me.â
But her mother turned away, forcing her father to address her plea. âThis is for the best. I suggest you stop fighting.â
âPapa!â she pleaded. âPlease. Help me!â
As she watched her parents standing, unmoved, her panic increased, and she kicked back, hitting the nurse behind her.
âFuck!â yelled the nurse. But she didnât care and continued to flail.
Her mother finally turned to her, boring her brown eyes straight into hers. She had seen this look before, and it was one that she never liked â calm but so icy it could freeze the Sahara desert. Josephine cowered and whimpered, akin to an unwanted stray animal.
âStop it,â she hissed. âStay here and behave until youâre well enough to come home. Donât embarrass your family.â
Tears streamed down Josephineâs face as she hung her head low.
âSettle down.â This time it wasnât her motherâs voice she heard. It was Dr. Suttworthâs. âThis will only sting a little.â
She did not relax, but she didnât protest either. Her small body had lost the energy to fight, admitting defeat. The last she remembered was the tunneling of her vision.
Then complete darkness.
A girl with the ability to see ghosts, Jo Ligaya is quickly embroiled in the mysterious death of a popular cheer leader, Alexa Ocampoâs death. As soon as I read the first half of the synopsis Night Orchid quickly became a part of my reading list. Additionally, the fact that the main female character is a person of colorâa Filipino to be more specificâupped my excitement and curiosity on this story.
However, on the latter half I was quite dissatisfied to find out that the story takes place in a high school setting, and that its main leads are the typical jock and loner of high school drama. Prejudiced, I have long strayed away from romance novels of this setting because of the clichĂ©s that made the considerable readings Iâve had appear like a collection of uncreative, recycled versions of each other. This novel is heavily laced with those clichĂ©s. Nevertheless, prejudices, when allowed to take over, only amounts to missed opportunities. And so I decided to take the mystery and ran with it. In this review I will be explaining why I think this novel is fairly riveting and worthy of reads.
A novel about uncovering the mystery behind the death of a haunting ghost is not new to me. In fact, as I read on I was reminded of Nora Robertâs Blue Dahlia in the same way that I was barely satisfied with the plot covering the death of Alexa. Although provided with adequate details throughout the course of the reading I felt that the romance between Jo and Julian was made more developed than the suspense itself.
However, I canât deny the solid build-up of their chemistry, and that they are a solid pair for silly butterflies in the stomach. Every time they interacted with each other a smile would shamelessly mark itself across my face. I mostly found myself barely suppressing my giggles as I read in the comforts of the dead hours that I should have been sleeping. In my opinion, the playfulness of their relationship as they took on the the imperative task of unfolding the mystery behind Alexaâs death made this novel irresistible.
Jo held the helm of my interest as soon as I started reading the novel. A loner with a depressing family situation and secrets that kept her from being a normal teenager, she is plagued with guilt as she initially tries to avoid the cry for help of Alexa. From this, she gets herself more entangled when soon sheâs thrown into the pits of high school where she meets the friends of the dead girl. This is when I immersed myself in the clichĂ©s that Iâve grown tired of long ago. The snooty cheerleader, the kid who is overly attached to their image and popularity, and the overall cringe feast of high school foolishness are some tropes that I recognized. To be clear, just because I find these banalities off-putting doesnât mean that the novel is automatically unworthy of recognition. ClichĂ©s are there for a reasonâthey work. However, too many times, in many novels,  not a single character is interesting enough to silence these repetitive tropes. Fortunately, Jo did not let me down, staying interesting and complex despite being surrounded with annoying teenage drama. Plus, she's funny and adorable.
On the other hand, I have no other opinions about Julian besides that he is a normal horny teenager with a cute and funny personality that blended well with his counterpart (Jo). He is an entertaining and relatable character in general, but compared to Jo he lacks in layers.
For my final rating I am giving Night Orchid a 3.5/5 for the refreshing dynamics of the main characters. I truly enjoyed their interaction despite the aforementioned issues.