ELLE (Canada) - - Radar -

The most ter­ri­fy­ing books of­ten don’t in­volve mon­sters or bloody gore; in­stead, their creep fac­tor lies in the ques­tions, the doubts, the shad­ows—like those in Jac­que­line Baker’s skin crawler The Bro­ken Hours. When a down-and-out man takes a job as a per­sonal as­sis­tant in De­pres­sion-era Bos­ton, he thinks he’ll be do­ing “light house­work” for an ec­cen­tric writer. Cue a dark pres­ence in the hall­way, a van­ish­ing child in the gar­den and a miss­ing neigh­bour down­stairs—oh, and a piece of grave­stone found un­der his pil­low. The strange­ness gets harder and harder to ex­plain away, es­pe­cially when the man’s own mys­te­ri­ous past catches up with him.

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