The statistics tell a disturbing story: not only do a disproportionate number of Black people go missing in the U.S. every year but their disappearances are also less likely to be widely covered by the media than those of their white counterparts. (See The Black and Missing Foundation.) I've long known about this disparity. However, I'm not sure I've ever read a book on the subject, fiction or non. We Don't Talk About Carol, a debut novel by Kristen L. Berry, brings the issue to light in a poignant and impactful story about one woman's plight to find answers about her missing aunt. 

When Sydney Singleton's grandmother dies in Raleigh, North Carolina, Sydney flies out to help her mother and younger sister clean out Grammy's home so it can be sold. Formerly an investigative journalist, Sydney's curiosity is piqued when she discovers a hidden photograph of a young woman who looks just like Sydney. Although her deceased father professed to be an only child, she soon discovers that he, in fact, had an older sister who vanished without a trace in 1965 when she was 17 years old. Not only that, but she was one of six teenaged girls who disappeared from the same Black community around the same time. Sydney's even more shocked—and angry—to discover that the string of disappearances were barely mentioned in the newspapers at the time or investigated by local law enforcement. After suffering a mental break caused by covering a heart-wrenching story, Sydney is no longer a reporter. In the middle of IVF treatments, she's supposed to be avoiding stress. Plus, her mother insists she forget all about Aunt Carol, citing her famous refrain: what happens in this house stays in this house. Sydney knows she should let it go, but she can't.

Sydney launches her own investigation into the disappearances of the Raleigh Six 60 years ago. It's not an easy task. While some people are eager to talk, others are reticent. It's clear that, in spite of the decades that have passed, someone out there knows what really happened to the girls. As Sydney digs deeper and deeper, she unearths dark secrets about her family and herself, secrets that only deepen her questions about her identity and her uncertainty about her ability to be a good mother. The more her investigation disrupts Sydney's ordered life, the more dangerous it becomes. Desperate to find answers, she puts everything on the line to solve six very cold cases.

Although We Don't Talk About Carol presents as a mystery/thriller, it's actually more of a family drama. Yes, suspicious deaths are being dug into, but the story is mostly about Sydney and her struggle to define herself within her roles as a daughter, a sister, a wife, and a journalist who has settled for a less-than-satisfying career in PR. As she probes Carol's life for clues, she also examines her own repressed memories of a tense childhood, her mother's reluctance to talk about anything of substance, her sometimes rocky relationship with her sister, and her conflicting feelings about the possibility of becoming a mother. Her personal struggles makes her sympathetic and relatable, while her determination to find the Raleigh Six make her admirable. It's easy to root for Sydney. I wanted her to find all the answers she sought.

As far as plot goes, We Don't Talk About Carol moves a little slowly. It's not exactly a page turner, but I quickly got invested in the story, wanting to know what had happened to Carol and the other missing teens. Although the answers are a bit predictable, I was surprised by at least one plot twist. The story kept me turning pages. In the end, I found it to be an affecting read that is, despite its sad subject matter, surprisingly hopeful.

Because of its eye-opening subject matter and the fact that it's a solid, satisfying debut, I wish We Don't Talk About Carol was getting more attention. I received an e-ARC of the book from NetGalley last year, but forgot all about it until I randomly came across it again the other day. I'm glad I did. I recommend picking up this novel if you're looking for an absorbing, memorable read on an important subject.

(Readalikes: I can't think of anything. Can you?)

To the FTC, with love: I received an e-ARC of We Don't Talk About Carol from the generous folks at Random House Publishing Group via those at NetGalley. Thank you!