My least favorite thing in story-telling is the trope when people aren't open and honest because of some sort of hesitation. It's usually bad news or revealing something about them that they feel betrays a weakness or vulnerability.
I just think the world would be a better place if we were more open with that kind of stuff. If I know I'm a fragile being, why would that sooner mean I'm the ONLY fragile being rather than mean that EVERYONE'S fragile? And, if the latter is the case, why wouldn't acknowledging that make us progress as a society?
My second least-favorite trope is the love triangle.
Third least-favorite is the hunky curmudgeon.
Fourth-place? Set of steak knives.
Anyway, it's an unfortunate pet peeve because I'll admit that the benefits of being open and honest would also take the wind of the sails of thrillers and horrors because there wouldn't be any secrets to keep.
And that's what's tying this book together - the idea that the kids basically snuck away for an overnight alone without adult supervision. There, a completely reasonable series of events happened that ended with a bad guy getting killed and yet none of the kids wanted to go to the authorities because their parents would be, like, SO made at them!
Stine leans hard into a knack for writing super annoying characters to really hammer home the agony of waiting for the reveal, the final act, and the end of the book.
This one wasn't my favorite.
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