A Book A Week

There's something wrong with Iðunn. At least, that’s what she thinks. How else can she explain the way she sleeps soundly every night, only to wake up exhausted, her body sore, aching, as if she’d spent hours working out? She would never. So, once again, Iðunn drags herself to another doctor’s appointment, desperate for answers, terrified of what those answers might be. ALS? That’s her guess. God, how awful. But at least it would be something.

Instead, the doctor finds nothing out of the ordinary. Her bloodwork looks fine. Her reflexes are fine. Everything is fine. She’s sent home with a prescription for sleeping pills and the usual suggestions to eat better, exercise more, and reduce stress.

Iðunn isn’t convinced. She’s seen plenty of doctors, and none of them have been able to give her a proper diagnosis. Still, she decides to humor this one and buys a smartwatch to start tracking her health. One night, she forgets to take it off before bed. The next morning, she checks it on a whim, and her stomach drops.

Thousands of steps. Walked in the middle of the night.

Sleepwalking? Maybe. But it’s rare in adults, especially without a history. Usually, it’s connected to something... worse. Iðunn doesn’t want to go there. Not yet. But the strange nightly journeys continue. The steps always seem to center around a single location somewhere near the harbor. She avoids it by day, too afraid to confront whatever might be waiting for her there.

And then come the injuries. Deep aches. Strange bruises. And one morning, something even worse.

Blood.
On her skin.
Not hers.

Something is happening.
And Iðunn is running out of time to figure out what it is.

A co-worker recently recommended I check out The Night Guest by Hildur Knútsdóttir, and after reading the blurb, I couldn’t wait to dive in. At under 200 pages, it’s a quick read, but don’t let that fool you. This book packs a serious punch.

Told entirely from Iðunn’s perspective, the story begins with what seems like run-of-the-mill hypochondria. But as the strange occurrences mount, it becomes clear that something far more unsettling is going on. We only know what Iðunn knows, and that isn’t much. Her fear and paranoia creep in slowly, then crash over you with every page. Knútsdóttir writes with urgency and precision, making it nearly impossible to put the book down. I read it in a single sitting, desperate to see how it would all play out.

My only complaint is with the ending. After such tightly wound tension and eerie buildup, the final pages lean more toward ambiguity than resolution. Because we only see through Iðunn’s limited lens, there’s not quite enough context to fully understand what’s really happening. It’s a bit of a letdown after such an intense lead-up.

Still, The Night Guest is a suspenseful, sharply written psychological thriller with plenty to admire. Knútsdóttir may not quite stick the landing, but the journey is more than worth it.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 54)