All the Dangerous Things

“Chairs squeak; throats are cleared. A mousey woman in the front row is shaking her head gently, tears in her eyes. She is loving this right now, I know she is. It’s like she’s watching her favorite movie, mindlessly snacking on popcorn as her lips move gently, reciting every word. She’s heard my speech already; she knows what happens. She knows, but she still can’t get enough. None of them can.”

Isabelle’s description of the TrueCrimeCon crowd is visceral and intentionally positions the reader on her side, highlighting the negative effects of groups who benefit from the pain of others. She describes the woman in the front row in a way that positions her as a consumer of entertainment before reasserting that the entertainment in question is someone’s tragedy. Furthermore, this moment is vital because the crying woman, Abigail Fisher, is ultimately revealed to be involved in Mason’s kidnapping.

“‘It’s not a story,’ I say. ‘It’s my life.’”

Isabelle reveals one of her foundational difficulties, which is the separation of truth from story. Waylon’s offer for her to come onto his podcast is framed in the context of sharing a story, implying that Isabelle’s story is open to interpretation and malleable. Isabelle’s insistence that she is sharing her life with people is meant to cement her narrative in a place of truth and undeniability, which is in part to assert her own innocence. This is one of the first moments in which the theme of Story Versus Truth becomes explicit.

“A few months ago, I slept clean through a fire alarm blaring just outside my bedroom door. I remember stirring awake on my own, outside in my nightgown, a pungent smokiness in the air. The feeling of my bare feet sticking to the dewy grass as my father held my hand in the dark, squeezing. Apparently I had walked outside with him, my fingers clenched tightly between his.”

This quote discussing Isabelle’s sleepwalking is essential to her eventual self-doubt and guilt regarding both Margaret and Mason’s incidents. By underscoring her heavy sleep and the repeated issue of her being in harm’s way while unconscious, the novel illustrates the extent to which Isabelle is not in control of herself while sleeping. This observation reinforces the uncanny nature of the narrative by highlighting how much separation there is between Isabelle’s conscious and unconscious desires. Furthermore, this moment is vital to her mother’s confession later in the novel, for it describes the woman’s first attempt to kill her family while suffering from postpartum psychosis.

“This is my fee: the full attendee list, complete with names and email addresses of every single person who purchased a ticket. The lead detective on Mason’s case once told me that criminals often show up at public events like press conferences and memorials as a way of reliving the rush, pushing their luck just a little bit further—or to try and stay informed of the latest beaks in the case.”

Isabelle’s devotion to her son’s case is an extension of her trauma. She seeks to exert some form of control over her situation and, therefore, does whatever she can to find him. This includes servicing an audience that she disdains. Isabelle’s devotion is contrasted with the detectives’ unwillingness to use her information; she secures it through unconventional methods, making it undesirable in the eyes of the law. The irony of this is ultimately revealed when Isabelle’s list contains the name of the woman who “adopted” Mason, making her right all along.

“‘It looks wrong,’ he says, wringing his hands. ‘You, standing up and doing that in front of some sick audience the day before the anniversary. It doesn’t look normal.’”

Isabelle’s separated husband, Ben, is concerned with appearances and people perceiving them as thriving, despite Mason’s disappearance. Initially, this seems to highlight the Nonlinear Nature of Grief: Ben seems to have reached a stage of acceptance that Isabelle rejects. However, the quote takes on a sinister tone when the reader learns of Ben’s involvement in Mason’s kidnapping, revealing this moment as an effort to discourage Isabelle’s search and cover his own tracks.

“That’s why it’s so hard to do these talks, knowing what half the audience is thinking. Their eyes on me, scrutinizing. Waiting for me to slip up. They think I killed my baby: another Susan Smith or Casey Anthony, woefully unmaternal. Some of them actually think that I did it—that I smothered him in my sleep, maybe, fingers twitching after one too many restless nights—while others simply say that I was asking for it. That I didn’t do enough to keep him safe.”

Isabelle alludes to real-life cases of mothers committing crimes against their children to ground the narrative in reality, emphasizing that her worries are not rooted in purely fictitious concerns. She positions herself against these other women to distinguish herself from them, but as she later describes, she did have violent, intrusive thoughts toward her son—making this the foundation for her anxiety that she hurt him while unconscious.

“It’s strange sometimes, seeing myself through the eyes of the people who know me. In the mirror, my transformation has been gradual—a daily withering away, like a slow starvation or a decaying body—but to them, I can see the shock of it all at once, like a swift slap to the face.”

Isabelle’s rumination on her changes since Mason’s disappearance highlights the separation between past and present. She simultaneously acknowledges how her appearance impacts others while understanding that her degradation has been gradual from her perspective. Her physical appearance shows the Longevity of Trauma but also serves as a physical manifestation of the anxieties and depression that impact her daily. Isabelle cannot fully hide her trauma because it has physically aged her, a display that makes others worried and uncomfortable.

“‘We’re not supposed to talk about that,’ I say.

‘This house is a little creepy sometimes.’”

From an early age, Isabelle and Margaret are taught the importance of appearances and the necessity of secrecy. Isabelle suppresses Margaret’s natural curiosity by emphasizing that they are not to discuss their mother’s miscarriage; this is tied to the suppression of her own memories, as she forgets Eloise well into adulthood. This moment links stories and memories, creating the foundation of the way both girls handle trauma. Margaret’s use of the word “creepy” encapsulates the strangeness of their home and the way they occupy it; they are haunted by their pasts, a haunting that is made more intense by Isabelle’s nightly walks.

“That poor child. Let’s not forget he’s the real victim here.

He’s in a better place.”

The idea of victimhood is complicated as Isabelle reads comments on an online article about her. In it, the anonymous posters are divided, some claiming her culpability while others believe her innocence. The different perspectives place Isabelle in a position of either culprit or victim, contrasting in a way that also reflects her eventual inner turmoil. The final comment, however, is one that elicits a powerful response as she grapples with the idea of a “better place.” This implies that she was an ineffective mother who did not do everything she could for her son. Isabelle’s reaction showcases her anxiety at being a parent and her worry that she is to blame.

“Waylon is quiet. He’s thinking, I’m sure, about all the little ways this should have gone so differently. About how I should have double-checked that the window was closed, maybe even locked it. About how I should have been sleeping with one ear open, ready to run to him if he called out. About how I should have checked on him as soon as I had woken up, calling the police at six instead of eight, or how I should have changed the batteries in the baby monitor the second I realized they were dead instead of waiting until it was convenient for me to run to the store.

‘It’s not your fault,’ he says instead, downing the last of the tawny liquid at the bottom of his glass. ‘You know that, right?’”

Isabelle’s internal thoughts are juxtaposed with Waylon’s beliefs as the two ruminate on Mason’s disappearance. Isabelle has been the subject of so much speculation that she preemptively anticipates Waylon’s criticism of her parenting. This assumption is rooted in her anxieties and trauma, both of which provide evidence of her supposed failings. However, Waylon identifies her concerns and does not share them. He instead offers sympathy, serving as the first person in the novel to give Isabelle grace.

“‘And people say it looks like I’m exploiting my missing son for fame,’ I say. ‘So I’ve just learned not to care what people think it looks like. Everyone grieves in different ways.’”

Isabelle justifies her work with the true crime community by emphasizing its role in both her healing and search for Mason. By defending herself, she also highlights how grief is nonlinear and different for each person. Her grief has translated into action, with her inability to move on deeply rooted in her sense of guilt. This quote also provides a critique of the way society observes grief; Isabelle asserts her right to process her son’s loss how she sees fit.

“Seen things, heard things, that weren’t actually there.

It’s amazing, the kinds of tricks that the mind can play on you after two, three, four nights without sleep. The kinds of things it can make you believe.”

This quote is early evidence of Isabelle’s unreliability as a narrator. Although she has given the reader reasons to question her veracity in the past, she now highlights the ways that her mind has betrayed her. This doubt serves as a red herring, evidence against Isabelle as she searches for truth.

“The irony, of course, was lost on me then: that he wasn’t being a good man to Allison, leading me on like that. He wasn’t treating her right. But in my mind, that was different. She was different. They didn’t have what we had.”

In hindsight, Isabelle can identify the ways that Ben mistreated his first wife, Allison, acknowledging that her and Ben’s emotional affair was a form of betrayal. However, she clings to ideas of romance to absolve herself of the guilt tied to Ben’s infidelity. This is the first time that Isabelle articulates the negative side of her relationship with Ben, marking the beginning of her doubts about his affections and motives.

“‘It’s just…’ He stops, seems to consider whether or not he should keep going, finish his thought. Finally, he spits it out. ‘Doesn’t any part of you think that her death was very…convenient?’ […] ‘There was another woman. Then his wife dies under suspicious circumstances...’ […] ‘…and now his son disappears under suspicious circumstances.’”

Waylon links Ben to both Allison’s death and Mason’s disappearance. Despite Isabelle’s internal concerns, she has always outwardly supported Ben; this is the first time that the reader sees her challenged in her love for him. Waylon’s questioning builds tension, as the reader does not know who to believe.

“I can still remember those muddy, sleep-deprived musings; the kind that didn’t even feel real. The kind that no mother would ever admit to herself, let alone utter out loud. Mason would shriek in the night and they would flare up so suddenly, so violently: dark little fantasies of all the things I could do to finally make him stop.”

Isabelle highlights some of the characteristics of her mother’s mental health condition in the context of her own struggles with Mason. She places herself amongst many women who have had similar intrusive thoughts. In sharing her fear, she provides evidence of her own potential blame and paints herself as a sympathetic figure who struggled in her loneliness as a new mother.

“‘Allison?’ he asks, as if reading my mind. ‘Isabelle, she looks like you.’”

Prior to this moment, the malice behind Ben’s actions was mostly speculation. Here, Isabelle realizes Ben not only has a “type”—he has a pattern. The reader and Isabelle share the discovery of Ben seeking out the same type of woman to manipulate (brunette, tall, slender, and young, with professional goals), establishing the foundation of his criminal activity.

“‘Because,’ he says at last, a twitch of a smile appearing on his lips, ‘you had your kid with you that time.’”

Isabelle’s conversation with an unknown neighbor serves as a red herring regarding her part in Mason’s disappearance. This neighbor confirms her suspicions, reinforcing the unreliability of Isabelle’s narrative and increasing the tension of the novel. However, this moment later reinforces Ben’s manipulation, as his dating of a particular type of woman allowed his current girlfriend Valerie to pose as Isabelle. Valerie’s part in the crime shows the premeditated nature of Ben’s plan and both of their disregard for Isabelle’s suffering.

“Ben found a way, just like he promised, and it involved me going freelance.”

Isabelle’s phrasing is critical to understanding her relationship with Ben and the way he shaped her life. She notes that Ben is the one who pushed her to freelance so they could be together romantically (as Ben was her boss at the time). This decision forced her to quit her dream job as a journalist for The Grit. Ben’s solution is one of subterfuge, intended to hide the questionable nature of their relationship from coworkers. Furthermore, this decision isolates Isabelle from others (especially potential friends like coworker Kasey), making her dependent on him for happiness.

“‘I think you should go home,’ he says at last, turning around and opening the door. I can see Valerie inside, perched on the edge of a barstool, sympathy in her eyes. ‘Whatever it is you’re looking for…you’re not going to find it here.’”

Isabelle turns to Ben for comfort, asking him if she had a role in Mason’s death. Ben withholds critical information and dismisses her, wanting to remove her from his life because she is no longer what he desires. The irony at work is that Ben knows exactly what happened to Mason because he planned his kidnapping. He encourages Isabelle’s self-hatred to cover his tracks in a moment of true villainy.

“She shakes her head, her gaze cast down to the floor like she’s still so ashamed. It’s always so easy to blame the mother.”

Isabelle draws parallels between her and her mother during a time of confession and openness (as Isabelle’s mother confesses to having killed Margaret due to her postpartum psychosis). She senses the blame, self-inflicted and otherwise, that she felt after Mason’s disappearance in her mother. She acknowledges the pressures of motherhood, especially in scenarios in which mental health cannot be discussed. Isabelle recognizes herself in her mother, a moment of recognition that aids their reconciliation.

“We never talked about her. She was the one topic that was always off-limits, before and after our marriage, like if we just ignored her existence entirely, it would absolve us both of any wrongdoing. Any guilt.

I had learned that from my parents, I suppose.”

This moment underscores both Ben’s narrative control and the impact of generational trauma. Allison’s death was a banned topic between Ben and Isabelle, preventing Isabelle from gaining insight or closure regarding the inception of Allison and Ben’s relationship. In preventing Isabelle from discussing Allison, Ben restricted information and allowed himself to control the narrative, repeatedly claiming that Allison struggled with drugs and framing her death in a way to make him look sympathetic. Isabelle’s resistance to questioning is a habit inherited from her parents, who focused on public appearance and prevented discussion of trauma so as to not cause upset. The more Isabelle learns of the tragedies of her life, the more tools she acquires for her own healing.

“I feel the familiar sting of tears in my eyes. I can relate to that, too. The way I had justified it at the time, as if my leaving The Grit and my life slowly dwindling down to nothing wasn’t his choice, but ours. I remember gossiping about Allison the night of the party, Kasey’s champaign breath in my ear. Judging her for being unemployed, staying at home. Her body gliding next to his like an oversized accessory.”

The more Isabelle learns about Allison, the more she relates to the woman she never got to know. With new context, Isabelle can clearly identify Ben’s harmful behaviors and the ways he changed both Allison and her. This realization is necessary for Isabelle to overcome her past love for her husband and build momentum toward her goal of finding Mason.

“‘Ben warned me about his,’ she says, almost like an afterthought. ‘You’re exactly like he said you were.’”

Valerie’s comment emphasizes Ben’s manipulation of the people around him through carefully crafted stories and lies. Ben’s current girlfriend is so convinced of Isabelle’s instability and incompetence that she has bought into the idea that Mason needs another mother; however, Valerie also acted out of selfishness, hoping to keep Ben, a married man with a son, to herself.