Hidden Shadows

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at the ‘trapped on a plane’ premise—until five minutes in, when Connor Crais’s voice dropped to that *tone* (you’ll know it when you hear it) and Finley’s panic attack became so visceral I checked my own seatbelt. *Hidden Shadows* hooks you with its high-stakes setup, but it’s the narration that sells the slow unraveling. Caris makes Finley’s anxiety tangible; she doesn’t just *tell* you Finley hates flying, she makes your palms sweat with her. Crais, meanwhile, turns what could’ve been a broody archetype into someone magnetic—his pauses are weapons, his smirks audible. The suspense plot isn’t groundbreaking (the villain’s reveal leans a bit soap-opera), but the real tension is in the push-pull between Finley and her seatmate. Kathryn’s dialogue crackles, especially in the first half, where every exchange feels like foreplay disguised as hostility. My only gripe? The pacing stumbles post-landing—once they’re off the plane, the momentum dips, and the last act rushes to tie up loose ends. Still, the audiobook’s production is flawless: subtle sound design (a distant ding of the seatbelt sign, a muffled announcement) immerses you without overpowering the performances. If you love enemies-to-lovers with a side of ‘are we flirting or plotting murder?’, this is your five-hour escape. Just maybe don’t listen mid-flight.