A Flicker in the Dark – Stacy Willingham

Can You Ever Escape a Killer’s Shadow? A Review of A Flicker in the Dark
What does it do to a person to discover that the man they love is a monster? Does it alter the blow when that monster is your own father? And how do you carry his DNA without wondering what, if anything, of him lives in you? These are the uneasy foundations on which we meet Chloe Davis, still attempting to construct a stable life twenty years after her father was imprisoned for the murder of six teenage girls, one of them her friend. The past may be legally closed, but for Chloe, it is anything but settled.
A Flicker in the Dark is Stacy Willingham’s debut, though you would not guess it. There is a confidence to the writing and a sharpness to the character work that feels far from tentative. Chloe is a fascinating contradiction: damaged yet prickly, vulnerable yet deeply frustrating. You feel for her, and at the same time, you want to shake her. Crafting a protagonist who inspires both sympathy and exasperation is no small feat, yet Willingham manages it with unnerving ease.
When a new string of murders begins in her local area, the carefully compartmentalised boxes of Chloe’s life begin to splinter. Childhood trauma collides headlong with the present, and the sense of paranoia is palpable. We are never entirely sure whether what Chloe sees and remembers is reliable. Her dependence on medication and alcohol becomes both a narrative device and a source of irritation. On one hand, it muddies the waters to the point that you occasionally long for clarity; on the other, it cleverly amplifies the uncertainty. Is this instinct, memory, or chemical haze? As a reader, you are left as unmoored as Chloe herself.
The twists are plentiful. I suspected the identity of the killer upon first introduction (in a manner of speaking, those who have read it will understand). Yet, the author does a commendable job of making you doubt your own instincts. Red herrings are scattered liberally, and almost every character carries an air of unease. Trust is in short supply, and that pervasive sense of shadiness keeps the pages turning.
That said, the pacing is uneven. There are stretches clearly designed to simmer with tension, but they occasionally verge on sluggish. At other moments, developments feel abrupt, as though we have leapt over scenes that might have deepened the emotional impact. Some clues are frustratingly flimsy, dissolving under even mild scrutiny, and a handful of loose ends remain untied. Readers who favour meticulously plotted, watertight thrillers may find themselves dissatisfied. There are moments that seem poised for greater exploration, scenes that almost demand to be written, yet never quite arrive.
One compelling element is the exploration of the psychology surrounding serial killers, not in a gratuitous sense, but in a quietly probing way. The novel also touches on, albeit lightly, why some individuals distrust law enforcement and why crimes may go unreported. It is not the book’s central focus, and it may pass unnoticed by some. Still, I found it an intriguing additional layer that gave the story a touch more substance.
For all its inconsistencies and occasional frustrations, A Flicker in the Dark remains undeniably readable. It has that compulsive quality that makes you promise yourself ‘just one more chapter’, if only to confirm that your suspicions are correct. And when the final page is turned? Let’s just say I was left with more than a few lingering questions, some intentional, some perhaps not.


