Grandma always said to me that you never do things for people to get something in return. That is the white man’s way of living. You do it because they need you. You do it because if you don’t, no one else will.

Well that’s quite a book!

In a word, it’s an urban fantasy about a Diné (Navajo) forensic photographer that can see ghosts. But it’s so much more than that.

First, I love the main character: Rita Todacheene. Someone that can see ghosts and a cop (or cop adjacent) is something I’ve seen before, but it being a forensic photographer gave a particular poignancy to the whole thing. And the Diné angle was fascinating–I’ve seen a bit of it in other urban fantasy books, but they have a particular way of looking at death which really plays interestingly against someone that can see ghosts!

As a bit of setting, the attention to detail on the cameras and the craft of photography was a really interesting touch. Rita, growing up poor but from a whole line of photographers. You really get the feeling she knows and loves everything about it which really gives a certain feel to the story.

Content warning though: We do get a number of descriptions of what exactly she’s photographing. And some of those are grisly. At least we don’t get the pictures? (I don’t actually know for sure, I listened to this on audiobook…)

Structurally, the book alternates between the present day–Rita trying to solve crimes and stay mostly sane with ghosts hounding here–and the past: Rita’s time growing up with her grandmother on a reservation, first coming to terms with life, death, and all it means to her specifically. It’s a really nice contrast, pulling the two stories together.

Plotwise, it’s not the most complicated of mysteries. You mostly have enough clues to figure out where this is going, but oh the ride to get there. It’s still well worth it.

I learned early that no amount of prayer or smoke or love was ever going to change the fact that these lights wanted to talk to me. Even at three years old, I knew it was something that deeply terrified my grandma and our medicine man. It was something that I was going to have to hide from them. As I got older, I taught myself how to look beyond the ghosts and mute their voices.