Both Can Be True

<p><strong>When a local mother goes missing, two estranged sisters are forced to confront the quiet unraveling beneath motherhood, marriage, addiction, and grief in this raw, emotionally layered novel about the many ways women disappear in plain sight.</strong></p><p>Frankie is the funny one, full of restless energy and sharp edges, the sister who got sober, opened a bookstore, and slipped into a version of domestic life without ever fully confronting the past. Mere is the steady one, the caretaker, a mother quietly unraveling under the demands of her neurodivergent daughter and the loneliness of a marriage to a husband who sees the world through an entirely different lens.</p><p>For the Gilmore sisters, losing their mother to cancer at a young age gave them a brief window of closeness they’ve never been able to reclaim. But over the years, a mentally ill father, the unspoken trauma of sexual violence, and the different vices they turned to for survival fractured their bond and created a divide of resentment neither of them could bring themselves to cross. When a woman in Frankie’s social circle disappears, the sisters are pulled into a shared reckoning and can no longer deny the past that has shaped so much of their present.</p><p>Set against the backdrop of a quiet Northern California mountain town, this gripping and emotionally layered novel unfolds in alternating perspectives, revealing the many ways women vanish inside motherhood, addiction, marriage, and shame. Told with raw honesty and wry compassion, Jessica Guerrieri’s sophomore novel is a story of sisterhood, acceptance, the unspoken truths we carry, and the redemptive power of bridging pain into connection.</p>