Unfollowed

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at first. *Another* influencer thriller? But *Unfollowed* hooked me within 20 minutes—not with a bang, but with Anna Skellern’s deceptively smooth delivery of Jess’s first vlog. ‘Hey, loves,’ she purrs, while the subtext screams, *I’m drowning*. Skellern’s performance is the audiobook’s secret weapon: she nails the performative cheer of a mommy-blogger, then flips to jagged, half-sobbed confessions when the cameras stop rolling. The shift is so abrupt it’s physically jarring, which is exactly the point. White’s writing thrives on these whiplashes—one minute you’re lulled by a beachside family idyll, the next you’re knee-deep in a missing child investigation that reeks of gaslighting and buried resentments. The pacing is *almost* flawless. The first half simmers with slow-burn dread (a missing son, a husband’s too-perfect alibi), but the payoff in the final act feels slightly rushed, like White got impatient with his own chessboard. I also wished for more texture in the secondary characters—Nick’s smugness and the detective’s gruffness start to blend into thriller tropes. That said, the audio production elevates the material: the occasional ambient sound (a car door slamming, a child’s voice cutting off mid-sentence) is used sparingly but to chilling effect. My biggest critique? The ending lands more as a *thud* than a gut-punch, but the journey there—especially Skellern’s voice cracking under the weight of Jess’s unraveling—is worth the price of admission. If you’ve ever scrolled through an influencer’s feed and thought, *No one’s life is this perfect*, this audiobook will haunt you in the best way.