Penelope Ross loves fairy tales and has imagined her mother's life as a very dark fairy tale. On the night of her seventeenth birthday, Penelope receives a cryptic text from her mother and she goes to check on her. The rest of the novel is told in alternating prose and poetry and Penelope comes to terms with her difficult relationship with her drug-addicted mother. A deeply moving, and unorthodox, look at what it means to be the child of an addict, how to break free from addicted parents, and how to let your own light shine.

Thank you Netgalley and MacMillan Children’s for the ARC in exchange for an honest review!

Adina King’s “The House No One Sees” is an evocative and poetic exploration of trauma, healing, and the labyrinthine nature of memory. Told through a masterful blend of prose and free verse, this book draws you into the fragmented and surreal inner world of 16-year-old Penny Ross, who is forced to confront her past after receiving a desperate text message from her estranged, opioid-addicted mother. Before going into this book review, I do want to provide a content warnings for child abuse and neglect as well as bullying as the story focuses on Penny’s traumatic childhood and her experiences with her mother who continued to relapse again and again as Penny grew up.

The book alternates between Penny's present-day journey through her childhood home and her kaleidoscopic, symbolic recollections of the past. These memories, told in verse, are as haunting as they are beautiful. King’s use of language is both poignant and disorienting, mirroring Penny’s struggle to process years of neglect, abuse, and her mother’s repeated relapses. The verse sections are particularly striking, laced with fairy-tale metaphors and distorted symbols that capture the confusion and heartbreak of a child trying to make sense of an adult’s failures. For example, Penny’s misunderstanding of a drug overdose as “Snow White’s poisoned apple” is one of many moments that underline her innocence and pain.

At the heart of the story is Penny’s relationship with her mother, a deeply flawed figure whose addiction has left lasting scars. The story doesn’t shy away from the darkness of child neglect and abuse, but it balances these heavy themes with glimmers of hope. Penny’s grandparents emerge as pillars of love and stability, providing her with the foundation she needs to grow and heal. Through their support, as well as her own resilience, Penny’s journey becomes one of self-discovery and empowerment.

One of the most captivating elements of the novel is the “house” itself, a metaphorical and almost living entity that represents Penny’s mind, memories, and buried pain. The house forces her to “dig up the dead” in both a literal and figurative sense, pushing her toward confronting her trauma head-on. This surreal element, while occasionally difficult to follow, adds layers of depth and symbolism to the story.

The book also weaves in a symbolic object—a doll—that Penny carries with her throughout her journey. This doll serves as a representation of her pain, growth, and eventual catharsis. King’s choice to tie Penny’s nickname, “Little Doll,” to this object is a poignant reminder of how deeply childhood trauma shapes identity.

While “The House No One Sees” can be challenging at times to understand due to its surrealism and Penny’s fractured perspective, these elements are also its greatest strengths. King’s ability to tell a story through fragmented memories, distorted symbols, and beautiful, lyrical prose makes this book a unique and unforgettable reading experience.

The book concludes on a bittersweet yet hopeful note, leaving you with a sense of closure and possibility. Penny’s final act of facing her pain and reclaiming her light is a powerful reminder that healing is possible, even in the face of profound loss and betrayal.

Overall, “The House No One Sees” is a deeply moving and important story that will resonate with teens and adults alike. It’s a testament to resilience, the bonds of family—however broken—and the power of confronting one’s past.

I admit it took me a little bit to get through this book. It was just a very real story, following a daughter being hunted by her mother’s addiction and past. At first it was confusing to me, but it is until later that I understood how deep this story hits. Reading about struggles, addiction, foster care it is a lot to take in. I was really taken by the writing, it is not the usual type of writing I’m used to but I appreciated it more and more as the story went. I really liked this book in its own, it just took me a bit to adapt and I believe people will find it as a solid read.

Adina King's The House No One Sees is a haunting exploration of family, addiction, and the enduring power of memory. Penelope returns to her childhood home, a place filled with secrets and family drama. As she delves into the past, she confronts her mother's struggles with addiction and the impact it has had on their family.

The novel does a great job of balancing the past and present blurring the lines between reality and memory. You get to see how Penelope's mother's struggles with addiction shaped her life and the lives of those around her. The house itself feels like a character, almost breathing with its own history.

If you're into stories with strong family themes, this book is definitely worth checking out.

I don't think that I'm a fan of stories written in verse and that is entirely a "me" problem. Because of this I had a hard time finding myself picking up the book or engaging with it when I did decide to read. Ultimately I'm just not the target demographic for the novel.

Readers who connected with Amber McBride's We Are All So Good At Smiling will love Adina King's The House No One Sees.

Written in verse, the book employs a mechanism of telling without telling what is happening through distorted memories and symbols. Eventually, the storyline starts to make more sense, as Penny faces past trauma and sadness. She relives her mother's addiction, her uprooting to go live with her grandparents, and her mother's failed attempts to recover and be the adult that Penny needs.

Penny has a little doll that symbolizes her pain and growth, nesting emotions within and eventually burying her pain both figuratively and literally. Little Doll is also her mom's nickname for her.

I was drawn in by some of the mysterious memories, and felt like I was uncovering a new timeline and new realization the further I read. The author's use of verse and masterful use of language craft an amazing story that should be recommended reading for teens and adults in schools, foster systems, and other organizations.

I highly recommend this book!

So this is one of those books where I’m not sure if not being the target audience is influencing my perspective. This is very clearly a YA for teenagers and may work really well for those readers.