Strings of Glass

I’ll admit, I approached *Strings of Glass* skeptical of yet another ‘tough female PI’ story, but Kimelman’s Rye won me over in the first ten minutes—not because she’s likable, but because she’s *real*. The opening scene, where Rye interrupts an assault, isn’t played for heroics; it’s messy, brutal, and sets the tone for a story where violence has consequences, not just for the victims but for the woman dishing it out. The child trafficking plot could’ve veered into exploitative territory, but Kimelman keeps the focus on the institutional rot enabling it, which makes the stakes feel urgent rather than sensationalized. Sonja Field’s performance is a masterclass in restraint. She doesn’t overplay Rye’s toughness; instead, she lets the character’s dry humor and exhaustion seep through, especially in the quieter moments (like her interactions with her dog, Blue—yes, the dog has more emotional range than some human characters). My only critique? The audio mixing occasionally muffles Field’s lower register during action scenes, forcing a volume tweak. And while the short runtime keeps things lean, the villain’s motivations could’ve used another layer of depth; they’re menacing but somewhat one-dimensional. Still, the trade-off is a listen that never drags. If you’re tired of cozy mysteries or procedural slog, this is the audiobook equivalent of a shot of whiskey—burns going down, but you’ll feel it for hours.