A taut, powerful psychological thriller following a mother who must confront a sudden and terrifying change in her daughter after the abrupt death of their babysitter.

Charlotte’s daughter Stella is sensitive and brilliant, perhaps even a genius, but a recent change in her behavior has alarmed her mother. Following the sudden death of Stella’s babysitter, Blanka, the once disruptive and anti-social child has become docile and agreeable. But what’s unsettling is that she has begun to mirror Blanka’s personality, from Blanka’s repetitive phrases to her accent, to fierce cravings for Armenian meat stew after being raised a vegetarian.

Charlotte is pregnant with her second child, and depleted and sick with the pregnancy. She is convinced that Blanka herself is somehow responsible for Stella’s transformation. But how could Blanka, dead, still be entwined in their lives? Has Blanka somehow possessed Stella? Has Stella become Blanka? As Charlotte becomes increasingly obsessed, she is sure that only she can save her daughter. . . even though it’s soon clear that her husband believes this is all in Charlotte’s head.

Helena Echlin’s singular, chilling voice holds light to the blurred lines of diagnosis in children and to the vital power of maternal instinct. Kaleidoscopic and tense, pulse-pounding and genuinely creepy, and infused with shades of the supernatural, Clever Little Thing is an ode to motherhood and a nuanced critique of the caretaking industry, a page-turner that will haunt readers long after its epic, surprising finale.

I listened to an advance copy of this book courtesy of Penguin Randomhouse Audio’s influencer program. All thoughts are my own.

When I read the synopsis for this book, I was immediately intrigued by the premise. A sensitive, socially awkward child suddenly begins to exhibit eerie behaviors that mimic those of her recently deceased babysitter, leaving her mother spiraling into fear and suspicion that the child may be possessed. Sadly, I was left feeling a little underwhelmed and wondering why it all needed to go down the way it did.

The novel opens on a promising note, introducing us to Charlotte, a mother grappling with exhaustion from her difficult pregnancy and worry over her daughter Stella’s strange transformation. The novel alternates between “Then and now”, and all we know at the top of the book is that Charlotte has given birth, she is at some sort of wellness center post-birth, and she’s worried about her other daughter, Stella.

We soon learn that Stella has been mirroring the deceased Blanka (her previous babysitter) in speech, preferences, and mannerisms. Stella is quite possibly on the autism spectrum, and her sudden change in temperament is striking. Things that used to set Stella off no longer bother her, she’s lost interest in things that used to bring her joy, and she uses words and phrases that she never used, but Blanka used often. When Charlotte reaches out to Blanka’s mother, Irena, and Irena begins to spend more time with Stella, Charlotte begins to wonder if maybe Irena is behind what is happening. This is all I’m comfortable sharing about the premise since digging any deeper would spoil the reveal, which I don’t want to do.

For a novel dealing with themes of possession, I found it to be lacking in genuine tension or scares. Possession-based stories typically evoke a visceral sense of dread in me, but this one never fully delivered in that area. Instead, the narrative feels more subdued and introspective than suspenseful, which might appeal to some readers but left me feeling disconnected. A lot of this could be because I’m not a female or a mother, so I wasn’t as invested in Charlotte’s maternal fear because it’s not something I’ve experienced.

On the other hand, I appreciated the novel’s focus on motherhood and mental health, as well as how society often dismisses women’s concerns as hysteria. Charlotte’s husband, her healthcare providers, and even friends all think that her fear of another miscarriage and her coddling of Stella is getting to her, causing her to believe that Stella is possessed versus the fact that Stella is a growing child who is maturing and changing naturally.

The pacing was another issue for me. After a gripping start, the story slows down significantly, making it hard to maintain the initial momentum. Charlotte’s internal struggles are interesting, but they never really changed and began to feel repetitive, bogging down the progression of the plot. I wanted more urgency and a greater sense of unpredictability.

The eventual reveal of why Stella begins to mirror Blanka was also a letdown for me. Without getting into spoilers, I found the explanation to be out of step with the tone of the rest of the book. It didn’t fully resonate or feel as impactful as I had hoped. Instead of tying the narrative threads together in a satisfying way, it left me wondering why the author took an alleged possession approach in the first place.

On the plus side, I listened to the audiobook version and found Ashley Tucker’s performance to be solid. Tucker gives each character a distinct voice, inflection, and accent, which makes the listening experience that much more engaging. That said, there were a few technical issues in the audio, such as noticeable background noise and some awkwardly spliced sentences, which slightly detracted from the overall production quality. Hopefully, these issues will be addressed before the audiobook’s final release.

This isn’t a bad book, but it’s not one I’d revisit. It left me craving more suspense, tension, and a stronger payoff. That said, I recognize that not every book is for every reader. Fans of slower-paced, psychological narratives that blend elements of family drama and maternal paranoia with light supernatural themes may find more to appreciate here.