No family is perfect—but lots of families will happily cling desperately to the idea that they are. Especially if a member if that family was taken from them. As much as everyone may want to know the truth, these moments in a family history may become strangely comforting: a way to place blame and find one's own peace, no matter who that hurts along the way.

Georgina Cross's One Night turns this idea into a sort of locked-room mystery... except the mystery being solved on this one night is a decade old.

A family has been gathered in a beautiful holiday home in the Pacific Northwest, summoned by a series of red envelopes. Red, like the color of the dress the family's late daughter Meg would have worn to homecoming. And, appropriately enough, the invitations promise the truth of what happened the night Meg died.

Now, the family largely believes they know this already. Or at least, Meg's mother does. Meg's ex-boyfriend Cal has served his time for the crime. But the dining table set for the family—Meg's parents, sisters, "uncle" (a family friend), and posthumous stepmother—has a place for Cal, too. And when Cal arrives half-dead with Uncle Geoff in the midst of a raging storm, the clock is ticking. Was this Cal's doing? Is he worth saving? Or is there a story about to be uncovered?

One Night is somehow simultaneously tense and slow-burn, tossing the narrative back and forth between family members and between past and present. Character profiles for our cast are built through each other's eyes, and years of misunderstanding begin to take shape. By the end of the night, and the end of the book, all will be answered.

As a narrative, One Night is solidly written. All the pieces are in place, there are no stray threads left untucked, and every character's actions and reactions are believable. Considering how many moving parts this book has, this is no small feat.

From here, the strength of the book hinges entirely on what the book is setting out to be. As a case study, it is extremely successful. It chronicles, with painful accuracy, the human tendency to create our own narratives and cling to them, even in the face of irrefutable proof. It shines a spotlight on the parental hesitation to ever believe one's own child could do something bad, coupled with the parental drive to do just about anything to protect that view of one's own children. And it plays with concepts of loyalty, trust and justice.

In that respect, the book is extremely strong. However, it is for this exact reason that the book doesn't make for a compelling mystery: everything makes so much sense, and every character is so well defined, that an astute reader can likely pick out at least some degree of "whodunnit" and "whydunnit" by the time the entire cast is gathered. There is one small surprise at the end, but it's less in terms of motive and more in terms of gutsiness.

Does that make for a "bad book"? Not at all. It just depends on what you're in the mood for. If you're reaching for a read that is cutting and psychological, One Night will satisfy you. If you're specifically looking for something that will keep you guessing 'til the final page, this is not it... ironically, because of the strength of its characterization.

One Night is deeply atmospheric, dark, treacherous, and sometimes painfully real. It's one of those rare books where the changing narrator structure is handled with real care and depth, besides being essential to the story. While the mystery itself may unfold for you midway through the action, the family's drama rolls on clear to the final page.

One Night by Georgina Cross goes on sale August 1.