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An absolutely addictive psychological thriller with a shocking final twist. My first holiday with my husband's friends. A remote Scottish manor. Nine sacred dolls. One brutal murder. We find the doll shattered on the floor, its broken pieces scattered like a warning. That's when everything starts to fall apart. Now the power is out. A storm has trapped us here. And someone is dead. We've only been married three months. And our first holiday as man and wife is spending ten days in a secluded Scottish manor with my husband's old friends. I've never met them before. From the moment I arrive, I feel like an outsider. And it's not just his friends. Things haven't been normal since the first day, when someone moved the dolls. I told them not to — never move the dolls before the tenth day of Navaratri, the Hindu Festival of Dolls. They're not toys. They're part of a sacred tradition. But no one listened. Even Dhruv — my husband — told me to stop being silly. I know they're hiding something. I can't trust any of them — not even the man I married. Now one of us is dead. One of us
An absolutely addictive psychological thriller with a shocking final twist. My first holiday with my husband's friends. A remote Scottish manor. Nine sacred dolls. One brutal murder. We find the doll shattered on the floor, its broken pieces scattered like a warning. That's when everything starts to fall apart. Now the power is out. A storm has trapped us here. And someone is dead. We've only been married three months. And our first holiday as man and wife is spending ten days in a secluded Scottish manor with my husband's old friends. I've never met them before. From the moment I arrive, I feel like an outsider. And it's not just his friends. Things haven't been normal since the first day, when someone moved the dolls. I told them not to — never move the dolls before the tenth day of Navaratri, the Hindu Festival of Dolls. They're not toys. They're part of a sacred tradition. But no one listened. Even Dhruv — my husband — told me to stop being silly. I know they're hiding something. I can't trust any of them — not even the man I married. Now one of us is dead. One of us