Death Row

Freida McFadden’s (real name Sara Cohen) Death Row is a terrific little psychological thriller that demonstrates how much mischief a talented author can pack into 74 pages.

Talia Kemper is sitting on death row, convicted of arranging the murder of her husband, Noel. Talia insists she is innocent. More importantly, she had an alibi. She wasn’t anywhere near her husband when he was killed. The courts haven’t been persuaded, her appeals are running out, and her execution is approaching.

Then Talia sees someone at the prison who shouldn’t be there: Her husband.

And that’s about all you should know before reading this one.

The most interesting element of Death Row is McFadden’s use of the unreliable narrator. Talia is telling us her own story, and initially, we have little reason not to accept her version of events. But McFadden gradually introduces details that make us question not only Talia’s honesty, but her interpretation of what is happening around her. There is an important distinction between a narrator who lies to the reader and a narrator who may not fully understand her own circumstances. McFadden has a lot of fun playing in that space.

The story jumps between Talia’s life before Noel’s death and her increasingly desperate situation on death row. With each new piece of information, our understanding of the earlier chapters changes a little. Then it changes a lot.

McFadden is famous for twists, and Death Row certainly delivers them. The impressive part isn’t simply that the story contains surprises. It’s that the surprises keep forcing you to revise the theory you formed ten pages earlier. Just when you think you’ve finally figured out what kind of story you’re reading, McFadden gives you another reason to reconsider it.

The final stretch gets particularly strange, and I mean that as a compliment. Some readers will undoubtedly debate exactly how the ending should be interpreted. I suspect that’s intentional. McFadden leaves just enough uncertainty behind to keep Death Row rattling around in your head after you’ve finished it.

This isn’t a deep character study, nor is it trying to be. It’s a 74-page Amazon Original designed to grab the reader immediately, create an impossible situation, and spend the remaining pages messing with our assumptions. Mission accomplished.

Death Row is short, fast, clever and satisfyingly devious. If you enjoy unreliable narrators and stories where every new revelation changes your understanding of what came before, this one is an easy recommendation. Get it HERE.