Book Review: The Split by Kit Frick

Jane Connor has always felt like the plain Jane of her family, especially given the way that life has always seemed to revolve around her beautiful, magnetic younger sister Esme. Not that Jane begrudges her little sister much; after all, their sibling bond was what kept the girls going in the wake of their parents’ own tumultuous relationship.

Carl and Marjorie Connor divorced some time ago, and the girls have spent as little time with their father as possible since. Bad enough that he was a womanizing college professor: he was also emotionally controlling and abusive. More relevant to Jane’s present life, he has checked out entirely of helping her care for her mother, who has early onset dementia. Jane is now the primary caretaker, both of her mom who lives in a memory-care facility as well as of the childhood home where she and Esme grew up:

There was a time when Mom remembered, and then a time when she did not. Her move [to memory care] was a stark inflection point for both of us, the acknowledgment that a different future, one in which she spent her golden years rattling around her too-big house with its stately bones, was no longer possible.

 

I suppose all lives have such pivotal moments, paths diverging, cracking in two–though the finality of the split registers only when we take stock of the universe we now inhabit, surrender to the swift death of the other.

A moment like this happens for Jane herself one night when Esme calls out of the blue, asking for a favor. The sisters haven’t spoken in a while, Esme storming away one Thanksgiving and refusing to say why. Jane is thus almost absurdly grateful for Esme’s phone call, for a moment of familial support given their father’s neglect and their mother’s fading away. She’s eager to help with whatever Esme might need, until Esme explains exactly what that is.

On the face of it, it seems like a pretty simple request. Esme is stuck in New York City and wants a ride from Jane back to their childhood home, an hour’s drive away in Branby, Connecticut. Esme has finally decided to leave her wealthy husband Mark and needs time and space to map out her future. Even though she knows Jane never approved of Mark, their family home is still her place of refuge.

While Jane is thrilled that Esme has turned to her for help, she’s also scared. The weather outside is terrible, and Jane doesn’t know if she can brave the storm lashing down to come to her sister’s rescue:

I shift back into park and press my eyes shut. I should call Esme, tell her to take a cab or find a friend’s couch to crash on for the night. Surely I’m not her only option.

 

But she asked me. She wants me to swoop in and save her like I always used to, when we were kids. It’s a role I know how to play, and it’s been such a long time since she’s needed me like this. Fear pricks at the back of my neck, but beneath it, there’s the hope I’ve felt since her name flashed across my phone screen–that this could be a fresh start for us.

 

Fifteen years ago, I nearly killed my sister, and every day since I have lived in her debt.

Fifteen years ago, Jane and Esme drove out into a storm and barely survived. Now Jane has a choice: either brave the elements again or let her fears get the best of her. This thriller explores the consequences of both decisions, as the sins of the past threaten to destroy the sisters’ relationship and lives for good.

Told in alternating narrative chapters – titled Home or Gone depending on whether Jane successfully brought Esme home or whether Esme disappeared after Jane failed to overcome her phobia – the plot lines weave around one another, hitting similar marks and introducing the same important characters but with definite twists. When Jane drives through the storm, she discovers that her secretive and somewhat insufferable sister is being threatened by someone who isn’t about to let distance stop them from getting what they want. In the alternate universe where Jane leaves Esme to fend for herself, Esme’s subsequent disappearance compels a guilt-stricken Jane to leave no stone unturned in her pursuit of the truth. The narratives have vastly different endings – I definitely preferred one over the other – but they’re both fascinating looks into the power of seemingly small decisions to change entire lives. Almost two books in one, The Split ultimately champions the powers of honesty and selflessness in healing grudges held too close and rifts long thought un-mendable.