A woman must confront the evil that has been terrorizing her street since she was a child in this gripping haunted house novel, perfect for fans of The Last House on Needless Street and Tell Me I’m Worthless.

On an otherwise ordinary street in Chicago, there is a house. An abandoned house where, once upon a time, terrible things happened. The children who live on this block are told by their parents to stay away from that house. But of course, children don’t listen. Children think it’s fun to be scared, to dare each other to go inside.

Jessie Campanelli did what many older sisters do and dared her little brother Paul. But unlike all the other kids who went inside that abandoned house, Paul didn’t return. His two friends, Jake and Richie, said that the house ate Paul. Of course adults didn’t believe that. Adults never believe what kids say. They thought someone kidnapped Paul, or otherwise hurt him. They thought Paul had disappeared in a way that was ordinary, explainable.

The disappearance of her little brother broke Jessie’s family apart in ways that would never be repaired. Jessie grew up, had a child of her own, kept living on the same street where the house that ate her brother sat, crouched and waiting. And darkness seemed to spread out from that house, a darkness that was alive—alive and hungry.

This is the type of book that sinks its teeth in early and doesn’t let go. Literally. It isn’t your average haunted house story. It’s darker, stranger, and far more alive than the kind of haunted homes we usually read about. This house doesn’t just creak or whisper ominous warnings. It eats you. It’s almost like if Pennywise was a house instead of a clown.

Jessie Campanelli grew up on a Chicago street overshadowed by an abandoned house everyone knows to avoid. It’s the kind of place that turns into a neighborhood legend, the one parents warn their kids about but can’t explain why. Years ago, Jessie dared her younger brother Paul to go inside. He never came back. His friends swore the house ate him. The adults, of course, refused to believe it. They searched, rationalized, and eventually gave up. Jessie never could.

Now an adult, still living on that same street with a daughter of her own, Jessie can’t escape the shadow of what happened. The grief has settled into her bones, but the house hasn’t forgotten either. The darkness that started there has begun to spread, creeping into her life again.

From the first few pages, Henry nails the atmosphere. The house is a place filled with dark secrets and it’s portrayed as a predator. It lurks, waits, and toys with the people around it. The tension never fully breaks, and even when the supernatural elements take center stage, the story still feels grounded in reality. A lot of that has to do with the way the author portrays the character’s relationships and how they deal with grief, guilt and rationalizing away the supernatural events.

Jessie is the kind of protagonist you root for even when she’s falling apart. She’s haunted in more ways than one, trying to be a good mother while carrying the weight of a childhood mistake that destroyed her family. Her flaws make her believable. You can feel her desperation and her determination to protect her daughter from the same fate that claimed her brother.

The supporting characters add another layer of tragedy. The house has affected more than just those it’s taken from. Neighbors are also haunted and in some way impacted by the terror this house has brought to the neighborhood. Their lives have all been warped by what happened. The book feels like a study in survival as much as horror.

Henry’s prose is crisp, eerie, and vivid without ever tipping into overkill. She knows when to pull back and when to let the horror build. I flew through it in a single day because I had to know if Jessie would ever defeat the house, or if the house would just claim her too.

I listened to parts of the audiobook along the way, and Leiana Dooley’s narration deserves its own round of applause. She captures every emotional beat: Jessie’s fear, the simmering anger, the exhaustion, the quiet moments of love and regret. Her character voices are distinct and perfectly tuned to the tone of the story. It’s one of those rare audiobooks that enhances the tension instead of softening it.

This is a horror story with emotional weight. It’s creepy, sad, and fiercely compelling. Henry manages to weave together grief, terror, and maternal instinct into something that feels both horrifying and heartbreakingly human. The house isn’t just a monster, it’s a metaphor for everything we bury, all the pain and guilt that keeps feeding even when we pretend it’s gone. If you like your haunted houses hungry and your endings hard-earned, this one’s a must-read.