We'll all are a bit more paranoid after months of being cooped up and separated from our fellow men. If you are an introvert or just out of practice socializing, this novel won't help overcome that. What I liked about it that it turns the story of the good samaritan on its head. One night driving home late, Leah Talbot hits a deer, her car is totaled, and she can't reach anybody to help her. So she makes her way to the house near to her. There she is welcomed by a warm and inviting home filled with excellent cooking smells and a perfect gentleman named Martin Tate, who helps her out. Now, strangely enough, and maybe because of shock, she finds herself kissing this man briefly, even if she is living together with a not-so-dependable boyfriend. The next day when she returns to pick up her car, wracked with guilt and confusion, she finds the police in this house eager to talk with her. Not to give anything away, what follows is an exciting cat and mouse game that will have Leah betray the love of her life, lie to the police and fight for her loved ones' life. 
I loved how straightforward this was, no fuss, just continuous tension and ever-worsening circumstances for Leah. It is not reinventing the wheel; this is one of the many stories dealing with bad relationships, the guilt after cheating, and the lies we tell ourselves to stay in relationships. What is new is that this kind of story used to be told from a male perspective. But here, the femme fate is a relentless insightful manipulator who is as evil as they come. Not a good one to restore your faith in humanity, but an excellent freight train that does not slow down until the very end.