One of Us Is Dead

“Olivia had a true talent for complimenting herself before she complimented others. She was the same with kind words and insults. I coined the term “kinsults” thanks to her. It was like she had created a cruel language all her own. You wouldn’t even realize she was insulting you, because they were wrapped up like a present, complete with a nice bow.”

Olivia’s “cruel language” alienates words from their superficial meanings. This mode of speaking is kind on the surface but insulting underneath, which is in keeping with other aspects of Buckhead’s social life. Olivia’s remarks, while outwardly benign, often contain an undercurrent of disparagement—a tactic designed to set the person off balance as well as undercut them.

“I knew there was more going on here than Olivia and Shannon’s history that was causing Olivia to be upset. It was obvious. Shannon wasn’t much older than Olivia and her husband traded her in for a newer model. Her hatred toward her was laced with insecurity and fear. Olivia was clearly trying to ostracize Shannon because she feared becoming her. Fear makes people crazy. Insecurity makes them crazier.”

Karen’s observation touches on the insecurity of this group of women who completely identify with their position as wives. It also illustrates the mentality of the group, which is shaken by Shannon’s divorce. They are primed to reevaluate their own fragile roles, setting up the theme of Identity Crisis and Image Revision.

“He had flashed that smile of his, not in a courteous way, but like it was a mini advertisement for himself, the five-second ad before a YouTube video. And when he took a seat at the bar, it was as if he had bowed rather than sat down. The hundred-dollar bill he set on the bar was strategic. The Macallan Rare Cask single malt scotch whiskey he ordered wasn’t one he had a taste for. It was one he ordered to show that life had a taste for him. We tend to gravitate toward people like Bryce, people that seem untouchable, like nothing bad could ever happen to them. Like the world exists because they’re in it, and not the other way around.”

Bryce’s smile is a tool for self-promotion, akin to a brief advertisement that precedes a YouTube video. This comparison effectively encapsulates his self-serving nature and superficial charm. His ostentatious display of wealth, showcased by laying a hundred-dollar bill and ordering a high-end scotch, isn’t a reflection of his preferences but a deliberate act to assert his dominance and display his affluent lifestyle. When Crystal remembers meeting him, she touches on his egocentric nature—he literally believes the world revolves around him, and others appear to share this view. The section underscores both Bryce’s attitude and the popular tendency to gravitate toward such self-possessed figures, regardless of their true character or intentions.

“My mind was practically blank. Wealth will do that to you. Make you not worry. I know this. I learned this. Because there was a time when I didn’t have the security of cash. But there was also a time before that when I did. They say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all […] the same is not true for money […] The truth is, I’d rather be dead than poor, and the easiest way to stay rich is to stay powerful.”

Olivia’s statement sheds light on her character and belief system, suggesting an inclination toward manipulation, control, and dominance as a means of preserving wealth. The dread of poverty and the relentless pursuit of power as a means of guarding against it contextualize her villainous acts throughout the novel.

“Shannon was a housewife. It was how she had introduced herself the first day we had met just over three years ago. “I’m Mrs. Shannon Madison, wife of Congressman Bryce Madison,” she had said. It was her identity—until it wasn’t. Now, another woman held that title. As humans, we define ourselves by the things we are most proud of—being a mother, a salon owner, a free spirit. But what happens when you lose that? Who do you become?”

Jenny remembers meeting Shannon and noting how she tied her identity and self-worth to her marital status. She was proud to be a congressman’s wife, which made her feel dependent on Bryce for both her social status and personal identity. When this position is taken from her, she faces an identity crisis. The texts suggest that titles and affiliations are temporary and reveals the dangers of defining oneself solely by external associations. The story subtly criticizes societal norms that link identities to social roles or relationships, emphasizing instead the need for self-realization and individuality beyond societal constructs.

“Although it was about honoring members of our community and raising money for some charity (I was never sure what charity it was for), deep down it was truly about honoring ourselves. The women dressed up in their most expensive gowns, trying to outdo one another. The men wrote large checks to compensate for other areas in which they were lacking.”

Olivia unselfconsciously provides what the text suggests should be a scathing critique of the superficiality and pretense inherent in the Buckhead social scene. The charity event, ostensibly a noble cause, is revealed to be a thinly veiled platform for self-aggrandizement. The women engage in a silent competition to see who can be the most opulent. The scenario highlights Olivia’s obsession with appearances and her lack of empathy.

“Now, in the town of Buckhead, I was labeled a gold digger and a home-wrecker. That wasn’t who I was. I knew that, but no one else did. But it was too late to change the past, and I knew my role. I had to win them over. I had to be the nice, beautiful girl from Texas that Bryce just couldn’t help falling in love with. I’d have to enchant them like I did the poor, unsuspecting married politician who would have been faithful if he hadn’t been under my spell. Sounds a bit ridiculous, but people love fairy tales, and whether I liked it or not, this was now my narrative.”

This passage shows how Crystal deals with societal expectations and labels. People call her names like “gold digger” and “home-wrecker,” and she feels that her only option is a competing stereotype, the fairy tale. Crystal knows the situation is absurd, but she’s determined to navigate it, highlighting the complicated relationship between agency and social norms. She chooses between them but still submits to them.

“‘So, ladies, who are we saving this week?’ Olivia laughed. Jenny and Keisha exchanged looks. They slightly shook their heads and closed their eyes for a moment. ‘The gala is to benefit at-risk youth throughout Atlanta,’ I said. As vice-chair, she should know this, and as the new chairwoman, I worried for the future of the Buckhead Women’s Foundation. ‘At-risk youth? They have their whole lives ahead of them. What are they at risk of? Being young?’ Olivia laughed […] at her own joke.”

This quotation reveals Olivia’s dismissive attitude toward the charity event and the cause it supports—aiding at-risk youth. Her flippant comments indicate a disregard for the struggles these young individuals might be facing. The fact that she is unaware of the gala’s purpose, despite being vice-chair, underlines her lack of genuine interest in philanthropy. Her laughter at her own joke emphasizes her self-absorption and lack of empathy for the underprivileged.

“Karen had begged me not to watch it again, but I couldn’t help myself. Each time I viewed it, I died a little more inside. How could I have become this person? You never get to see the way people see you, but I did […] Someone had anonymously uploaded it to YouTube under the title ‘Woman Commits Suicide*’ with * Social Suicide in the description.”

Shannon repeatedly watches the video, struggling to understand her actions and the character they suggest. The public shaming indicates the pressure to maintain a certain image, a recurring theme throughout the narrative, and the potentially harsh consequences of failure. Her sense of “dying inside” and the alienation she feels from “this person” on the screen designate this moment as a turning point. One version of Shannon dies so a new one can develop.

“Initially stunned, it took me a moment to gather my thoughts enough to respond. ‘The truth is, I’ve begun to question my place in the world more and more these days. It’s not just Buckhead, or my friendships. It goes deeper than that. I find myself questioning everything, even my marriage […] I just wish I didn’t feel quite such a stranger to myself.’”

Karen begins to question her place in the world, revealing a growing self-awareness and dissatisfaction with her current situation. The feeling of alienation accompanies her general identity crisis. Her introspection also indicates the potential for change.

“Being yourself is the strongest, most powerful thing you can do. It’s like signing your autograph on something you created. You’re saying, ‘This is me, and I’m so fucking proud of it. I’m proud of me.’”

Karen, Shannon, and Keisha affirm the importance of individuality and authenticity. The analogy of signing one’s autograph on something created likens personal authenticity to a unique piece of art that one is proud to claim. Karen celebrates Shannon’s newfound sense of self as her friend rejects outdated constructs.

“Living in Buckhead was like a roller-coaster ride. You’d wait in line for a very long time, and then finally, you were in. You were on the ride of a lifetime. But this ride wasn’t consistent. It was ever-changing. Sometimes you’d scream. Sometimes you’d be sick to your stomach. Sometimes you’d beg the operator to stop the ride, so you could get off. Sometimes you’d smile and laugh out of pure enjoyment. Sometimes you’d have to hold on tighter than usual for fear of falling off. And sometimes you’d just let go, waving your arms and hands freely, without a care in the world. I was letting go, or at the very least, I was starting to.”

Shannon compares living in Buckhead to a roller-coaster ride, a common symbol of life’s highs and lows. She focuses on her relationship to the ride, the reactions, and varying levels of control over the journey. The act of letting go signifies Shannon’s willingness to relinquish control and welcome the possibility of change as the next turn in the roller coaster’s track.

“Typically, I had a hard time looking someone in the eye and holding a gaze. Eye contact, such a standard way of communicating but so difficult to master. I’d always be the first to look away, to pretend something caught my eye […] but not this time. With Keisha, I couldn’t look away. Her eyes held everything—my courage, my trust, my fear, my curiosity, my desire.”

Keisha’s eyes become a mirror for Karen. They reflect her emotions, enable her vulnerability, and affirm her value. Karen refuses to look away from either Keisha or this new version of herself, a pivotal moment in her journey toward self-awareness and acceptance.

“I knew exactly why Dean came. For starters, I invited him. His attendance made it look like he controlled me, and it gained sympathy points from Crystal. Second, I knew how Dean was. I counted on Dean to be Dean. And when he did, people might not see me as the evil one after all. He was tired of me causing trouble. He wanted me to act like a lady—quiet, calm, and collected. He wanted me to fit in with the other women. He wanted me to not bring any extra attention to us.”

Olivia’s internal explanation touches on the omnipresent theme of Power Dynamics, Toxic Relationships, and Abuse in the novel. She invites Dean to the Manis and Mimosas event as a strategic move to shift public perception in her favor. As for Dean, his desire for the Olivia to “act like a lady” reveals his controlling nature and insistence on complying with social norms rather than attracting attention. For one thing, he doesn’t want her to draw attention to their illegal gains.

“Buckhead wasn’t a place you lived. It was a place you survived.”

Buckhead is less of a home than an ordeal for many of its residents. This quote foreshadows the fact that not all of the characters survive the events of the novel. An entire group of women participates in Olivia’s murder, demonstrating her rejection by a greater community.

“With Shannon on her way out of our group, whether she liked it or not, Crystal would take her place. There was power in numbers, so I couldn’t just kick people out without replacing them. Crystal was a replacement—for Bryce and for my circle of influence.”

Olivia adopts a calculated approach to social dynamics. She doesn’t merely manage friendships; she mindfully curates a group to maximize her influence. Her tone is emotionless and transactional, underscoring her lack of genuine emotional connection within the group.

“I tried reading a book when I put Riley down for a nap, but no matter what I read, the words on the page kept rearranging themselves into questions: Is Mark cheating? Is he sleeping with Olivia? Would Olivia do that to me? Did I even love Mark anymore? Did I really care if my marriage was over? Was my marriage over? Who would I be without Mark? How would Riley react? Did Keisha and I have something real? If we did, could we make it work? How would people treat me as a gay woman? Would it affect my business?”

Questions flood Karen’s mind, revealing a whirlwind of emotions and fears after she starts a relationship with Keisha. As powerful and financially independent as she is, she still struggles to understand herself outside of a socially normative marriage. Her inner monologue signifies both her fear of change and her growing self-awareness and readiness to face her truth.

“Buckhead was like a Rubik’s Cube—few figured it out, few understood it. I knew what I knew because I was a silent observer—through the text messages they sent, the phone calls they took, and the emails they drafted, I saw everything. All while they sat in my salon chair. Not only that, but the pauses between their words, looks exchanged with one another, and their body language told me everything else.”

Buckhead is a complex and multifaceted world. Jenny’s success as a “silent observer” comes from her privileged position and her sensitivity to subtleties in communication. Her assertion serves as a reminder that the quiet Jenny should never be underestimated. She’s astute and resourceful in a world that is often dismissive of her.

“My face turned sympathetic. It was something I had practiced through watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy, when the doctor had to tell some poor patient’s family their loved one didn’t make it. The look on the doctor’s face was always one of sympathy. It required a slightly pinched brow, fused lips, a small rise of the forehead, and eyes that were engaged with the one you intended to be sympathetic for.”

Olivia’s practiced expressions illustrate her calculated approach to emotional display. By mimicking behaviors seen in popular media, she performs empathy rather than genuinely feeling it. Her clinical dissection further reinforces her desire to fulfill social expectations or manipulate them to her advantage.

“From that point on, people looked at Dean and me a little differently. We weren’t the classy Petrovs, we were the smarmy Petrovs, and we ultimately fell into those roles. Because it’s easy to become who people say you are. On top of that, for years the women in Buckhead called me Nemo—‘new money,’ a constant reminder that I wasn’t like them.”

Olivia’s memory highlights the impact of external perception on self-image. Fragile reputations easily shift from “classy” to “smarmy” with a little gossip, and Olivia and Dean eventually accept these imposed roles. The nickname “Nemo,” meaning “new money,” provides a constant reminder of her outsider status and the elitist attitudes prevalent in Buckhead society. It also serves as one of the novel’s many portmanteaus, which combine to create an insider dialect.

“‘We’re living the American dream.’

‘Breaking the law isn’t living the American dream, Olivia,’ she hissed.

‘America was built on the backs of others. We’re just carrying on the tradition.’ I chuckled as I walked her to the front door.”

Olivia occasionally provides what would be caustic commentary if it came from anyone else. Her rejoinder that “America was built on the backs of others” reflects her awareness of the historical exploitation and injustices, particularly slavery, that underpin the foundation of American society. Olivia simply doesn’t care about the darker facets and ethical compromises often involved in the pursuit of success. Instead, she uses the pseudo-patriotic observation to legitimize her family’s own underhanded practices.

“The girls would vouch for us and everyone else would remember seeing us because we faded into the background. We were the help. We didn’t demand attention. We were like air […] People just always assumed we were there.”

Jenny and Keisha are perceived as background characters, unnoticed and unacknowledged, despite being omnipresent. Buckhead society overlooks those in service roles, viewing them as part of the scenery rather than as individuals with distinct identities and stories. The women leverage their inconspicuousness to conceal their crimes, cunningly adapting to social biases and turning them against those who perpetrate them.

“Olivia was like a cancer, and not one that could be treated. She needed to be cut out. You might be questioning whether we really needed to kill her. The answer is yes. We knew Bryce would slime his way out of it. A jury would go easy on Olivia, and Dean would have taken a plea deal. They were wealthy. And we all know what happens to wealthy people […] Nothing.”

Jenny justifies the homicide, citing the perceived impunity of the wealthy. She likens Olivia to an untreatable cancer that needs to be eliminated for the greater good. Her statement paints a bleak picture and offers a challenge: How can you discipline powerful people in a society where social hierarchies and economic disparities shape judicial outcomes?