The Woman Who Walked Through Walls
Brit is a scholarship student on a campus that wasn't built for her, nursing a cracked phone screen and eleven hundred Instagram followers, when she finds an abandoned device on a bench outside the student union. The phone is warm. It opens doors in walls. And whatever happens on the other side doesn't follow you back.
What begins as a way to survive - borrowing money from richer versions of themselves, stealing small things from people who won't notice - accelerates with the arrival of Jasmine and Aubrey, two alternate versions of Brit from parallel dimensions. Same face. Same history. Radically different thresholds.
Together they build something that looks like a life and functions like an operation: hotel rooms, burner wallets, a training range in an industrial district, and a notebook full of intelligence files on three crime figures whose removal, Brit has decided, will constitute justice. Her logic is careful. Her planning is meticulous. Her rationalizations are entirely convincing, right up until they aren't.
Narrated in Brit's razor-sharp first-person voice - sardonic, self-aware, and increasingly dissociated - The Woman Who Walked Through Walls is a psychological thriller about the architecture of moral collapse. Each decision follows cleanly from the last. The descent is so gradual it's almost invisible. And the betrayal, when it comes, was built from Brit's own handwriting.
Dark, propulsive, and formally inventive, this debut novel asks what you become when accountability is optional - and whether the answer was always there, waiting to be confirmed.
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