The Missing Half

“There’s something off about the gesture that makes me think she’s nervous, like a bad PI going for casual. I keep watching to see if she’s checking up on a kid in the throng of the arcade, but she just stares at the side of her drink. […] If she doesn’t have kids, what the hell is she doing here?”

The introduction to Jenna from Nic’s perspective develops a mood of anxiety and nervousness, as Jenna watches Nic at Funland despite having no reason to be there. Although most of this will be subverted, as Jenna turns out to be friendly and helpful to Nic, it also hints toward the damage that she will do to Nic and Kasey. Right from the start, Jenna’s dangerous personality is foreshadowed.

“I let my mind slip into the past, and it’s just as painful as I always imagined it would be. Knowing everything I know now—that right around the time I was writing those angry texts to my sister was more or less the time she was in unspeakable danger—makes the little flame of self-loathing that lives inside my chest grow.”

From the moment Nic begins to engage with Jenna and the disappearances from years before, her inner conflict is introduced along with the theme of The Lasting Effects of Trauma and Grief. She has chosen to ignore her feelings, “self-loathing,” and guilt over what happened to her sister for years. While part of her wants to figure out the truth, the other part still grapples with the trauma, setting up a conflict between both parts of her.

“[We] walk into my apartment fifteen minutes later. I try to refuse to be embarrassed by it, but it doesn’t work. […] Dishes fill the kitchen sink, smears of food hardened on their surfaces In one of the corners of the living room, the leaves of an old houseplant have withered on the stalk. Next to it is a litter box that hasn’t been used for over six months now.”

Nic’s apartment, which is a metaphorical representation of who she is, gives insight into the life she has lived since Kasey’s disappearance. She and her apartment are both disheveled and neglected, as she struggles to build a real life for herself in the wake of the trauma of losing Kasey. The lack of attention to detail highlights the all-consuming nature of her grief.

“I’m here now, sitting on the floor of the air-conditioned cat room, my mouth cottony and my head throbbing. It’s been twelve hours since I kicked Jenna out of my apartment. Twelve hours since she took a pickax to my finely tuned numbness.”

The metaphor of Jenna’s “pickax” gives insight into Nic’s mental state. She has built up walls both around herself and within herself that protect her from the lasting effects of trauma and grief. However, Jenna is slowly picking away at it, breaking down her barriers. Additionally, the fact that Nic finds comfort in the cat room at the shelter emphasizes the importance of Banksy to the text, as Nic finds comfort in caring for something who has struggled as much as she has.

“Today though, memories of my accident are buried beneath the nagging sensation I’ve had ever since talking to Jenna. Far from dissipating, the feeling’s only gotten stronger over the past few days, like a vibration that’s gone up in frequency. Something about Jenna and Jules moving to Osceola is important—I’m sure of that now—but I can’t figure out what.”

One of the significant plot devices in The Missing Half is the use of faulty memory—a common trope in detective fiction. Instead of outright making connections or remembering important details, the characters instead struggle to connect the dots, the “nagging sensation” building suspense and creating mystery as events slowly unfold.

“I click over to my messaging app, to Jenna’s texts, but hesitate, my finger hovering over her number. Do I really want to call her, the person who used my own sister to trick me into talking? But I have to tell someone, and who else am I going to call? The person I used to tell everything to was Kasey. I had friends once upon a time, but I vanished from their lives the summer my own was turned on its head.”

The fact that Nic forgives Jenna almost immediately for getting her hopes up and lying to her conveys just how truly isolated Nic is in her life. Her thoughts that she “had friends” underscore the fact that she has none now, stemming from the trauma of losing Kasey. In this way, the primary conflict that she faces is the battle between who she has been—isolated, alone, guilt-ridden—and who she has the potential to be if she befriends and works with Jenna.

“A lot doesn’t come close. This is the kind of wall serial killers have, or detectives in TV shows when they’re slipping into obsession. The sheer amount of information in front of me makes me dizzy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen half these articles before, and it’s a reminder that I’m the shitty kind of survivor while Jenna’s the good kind.”

The wall that Jenna has built to investigate her sister’s disappearance is a common trope in detective fiction and television: a collection of all the information from the case displayed visually for both the characters and the viewer to better understand the case. Additionally, Nic’s comment that she is a “shitty” survivor compared to Jenna sets them up as foils. Although it’s fair for her to respect what Jenna has done to help the case, Nic also misses a key point: Jenna is also “slipping into obsession,” foreshadowing her need to exact revenge in the novel’s climax.

“We file through the church’s double doors with the rest of the congregation, looking exactly like the wide-eyed tourists we are. People are shooting sideways glances at us and smiling too broadly when I catch their eye. We sit in the back, and I crane my neck to search the pews. There are dozens of women I think could be Lauren.”

The scene where Nic and Jenna go to church to get information from Lauren highlights the importance of the setting in the novel. The simile here, which compares Nic and Jenna to “tourists,” conveys how they feel when they join the town at church: They do not truly belong. The small-town setting creates a feeling of belonging and loyalty among the residents, something that Nic and Jenna will battle as they try to uncover the truth of the disappearances—and, by extension, pick apart the comfort of Osceola.

“When Kasey went missing, my parents all but disappeared with her. My mom into her drinking and then eventually into her new family in Florida. My dad into denial, silence. In those crucial first few weeks, Brad and his wife Sandy were the scaffolds holding up my crumbling family.”

This metaphor compares Nic’s life to a house, which is only stabilized by the support of Brad and Sandy “holding [her] up.” This emphasizes the importance of Brad and Sandy to her life, while also conveying the theme of the loyalty and burden of family. Brad and Sandy are some of the only family that Nic has ever known, earning her loyalty over the years; now, she faces an internal conflict as she struggles to believe they did anything wrong in Kasey’s disappearance.

“‘A man on the periphery of Kasey’s life, yes. That was our theory.’ [Detective Wyler said].

‘That’s not a theory. That’s a fucking line.’

‘Nic—’

‘No, really. I can count all the words of your entire theory on two hands. A-man-on-the-periphery,’ I say, punctuating each word with a finger, ‘of-Kasey’s life. That’s eight words.’”

The conversation with Detective Wyler highlights Nic’s characteristic anger and short temper. Although it was seen in minor scenes before, her anger, aggressive language, and dismissal of Wyler make it clear just how much anger she has. In turn, these moments convey the lasting effects of trauma and grief, as she has held onto this anger for seven years.

“Steve McLean turns around, and at first gaze lands on Matty, then Jenna, then slowly, almost leisurely, it moves to me. Across the room, our eyes lock, and a grin spreads across his face. Spiders crawl up my spine.”

The first time that Nic sees McLean, Flowers introduces him as one of the primary antagonists in the text. The metaphor of “spiders” on Nic’s “spine” conveys the creepy and uncomfortable feeling that McLean gives her, setting him up as a possible suspect in Kasey’s disappearance. The scene also highlights the fact that one of Nic’s talents as an investigator is her ability to read people.

“All of Kasey’s lies are spinning into one enormous tornado in my head. And the same, single question is its eye: Why didn’t she trust me with the truth?”

In moments like this, Flowers humanizes Nic as a victim, highlighting the importance of understanding just how deeply she continues to be affected by Kasey’s disappearance. Not only does she struggle with her disappearance and possible death, which in itself is difficult enough, but she also grapples with the relationship she had with her sister, battling feelings of grief and trauma but also betrayal and dishonesty. In this way, Flowers emphasizes the importance of seeing the characters as humans and understanding everything they went through.

“And yet, no matter how much I hate him right now, I don’t want to destroy his and Sandy’s and my dad’s lives by making him the target of an investigation. And that’s exactly what would happen if we got to the police with the affair.”

Nic’s internal conflict over how to handle Brad’s affair emphasizes the theme of the loyalty and burden of family. While she wants to remain loyal to Brad, it would involve taking on the burden of his affair, something she is not sure she is prepared to do if it means not discovering the truth about Kasey.

“[M]y dread builds with every step I take closer to the front door. When I reach it, I hesitate, as if the air in front of me has calcified. My relationship with my dad has grown distant, and barging in seems intrusive somehow. But it feels awkward to ring the doorbell of the home where I grew up, so I do what I always do and split the difference, knocking as I enter.”

The narration slows as Nic approaches her father’s door, creating a mood of discomfort and even fear over how her father will react to discussing Kasey and Brad. Nic’s hesitancy and uncertainty over how to enter—whether to ring the bell, knock, or walk straight in—is ironic, as she is uncomfortable around her own father. This irony conveys just how dislocated and isolated she has become from him.

“An enormous crash cuts me off—the plates shattering in the sink. My dad turns, and I see that his hands are soaking wet, a stream of blood and water running down his wrist. But it’s his expression that unnerves me most. It’s a stone façade about to lose its hold. ‘Nic.’ His voice trembles. ‘There’s a baseball game on right now. I was thinking about watching it.’”

Flowers builds tension and discomfort in the final moments of Nic’s conversation with her father, punctuated by the loud and dangerous breaking of the dishes. While Nic has tried to change—grappling with her feelings over Kasey and engaging with her investigation for the first time—her father still struggles too deeply with the lasting effects of trauma and grief to do the same for himself.

“Fresh fish dinners. Noisy games of Yahtzee. The memories shine with the feeling of rightness, of belonging. Me, Kasey, our mom and dad, the two Andrews boys, and their parents. But as I get closer and closer to Brad and Sandy’s house, the scenes turn gray and lifeless. One of our little group is now dead. One may have been her killer.”

The lake house in the novel initially symbolizes a place of belonging and comfort for Nic and her family. As she explains at the start of this quote, she has fond memories of going there as a child. However, after Brad and Sandy’s actions, the meaning of the lake house shifts, now representing something “lifeless”—as those same memories of her idyllic life are tainted by both Kasey’s disappearances and Brad’s involvement in it.

“‘Even so, you were old enough to be her father. Can you imagine how fast this town would have turned on us if it had gotten out? The boys would’ve been ostracized, and people would’ve eaten me alive. The Wife.’ [Sandy] says it like it’s a slur.”

The internal conflict that Sandy faced over how to deal with Brad’s infidelity emphasizes the importance of the setting to the novel. Because they live in a small, close-knit town, she felt as though the revelation that Brad had an affair would destroy her life. Ironically, she chose to value her reputation over the health of her marriage.

“I close my eyes, which are starting to sting with unwelcome tears. I want to turn the clock back to a time when my life wasn’t so fucked up, when I wasn’t so fucked up. But as I mentally rewind past today and the moment I decided to drive without a license, […] I realize that in order to get back to a time when I didn’t feel so completely broken, I’d have to erase the past seven years. All the mess and meaninglessness are so deeply woven into my life.”

At a pivotal moment for Nic’s character, she is arrested and reflects on the life she has built since Kasey’s disappearance. These thoughts emphasize just how deeply rooted the effects of her grief are, infiltrating and affecting all aspects of her life. Despite this, this moment is a turning point for her character, as she acknowledges this fact—then chooses to finally move past it, connecting with Jenna, facing the difficult truths of Kasey’s disappearance, and finally getting closure.

“I look at the second bottle of wine I got into last night. Without letting myself rethink it, I grab the bottle by the neck, pull out its cork, and turn it upside down over the sink. […] I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to make a pot of coffee, take a shower, and email Detective Aimes back. Because I am going to finish what Jenna started. I have to. Not for her or Jules or even Kasey, but for me.”

The wine that Nic buys, drinks, or ignores at multiple points in the novel symbolizes her efforts to cope with the lasting effects of trauma and grief. Instead of facing her trauma head-on, she chooses to handle it through substance misuse. The act of pouring it out conveys her change, as she is choosing to stop using alcohol as a coping mechanism.

“Instead, I hear someone say, ‘Can I help you?’ and my body goes cold. The voice is so familiar to me, I could pick it out of a lineup of a thousand. I just never thought I’d hear my sister speak ever again.”

Flowers uses the novel’s structure repeatedly to build suspension and create tension in the novel. Here, these words end the chapter, as Nic reveals that she hears Kasey’s voice for the first time in seven years. By ending this chapter on a cliffhanger, Flowers creates suspense to encourage the reader to continue.

“It’s as if I’m suspended in time. I see Jenna bringing me a bag of peanut M&M’s, Jenna slipping her arm gratefully through my cardigan, Jenna throwing her head back and laughing at my joke, Jenna smiling softly as Banksy curls into my lap. For these past few weeks, the woman in front of me has become the closest thing I’ve had to a sister since my own went missing. I realize now that I’ve come to love her. Tears stream down my cheeks as I lift the hammer, impossibly heavy in my hand. And then, with all my might, I swing it down on the back of Jenna’s skull.”

In the novel’s climax, Flowers slows down the narration to build suspense over what Nic will do: stop Jenna or let her shoot Kasey. The thoughts that Nic has at this moment emphasize the loyalty and burden of family. She has come to see Jenna as family, as she is the first form of support and comfort she has had in years. Ultimately, however, Jenna is not family—Kasey is—and Nic chooses to take on the burden of defending Kasey from death.

“Kasey stared at her sister’s peaceful face and felt as if a deep fault line were tearing through her—love on one side, loathing on the other. You killed someone, she thought. A woman is dead because of you. I am about to become a criminal because of you.”

The point of view shifts for just one chapter, changing from a first-person point of view from Nic’s perspective to a third-person limited omniscient point of view that focuses on Kasey. This change allows Flowers to give insight into Kasey’s actions seven years before, revealing information that Nic couldn’t have.

“Two branches of the same tree, / two pieces of a soul. / Where one sister goes, the other will be, / for she is but half of the whole.”

This poem, originally given to Nic by a random stranger to help her as she grieved, is a motif in the novel whose lines are repeated at multiple points. Here, Nic remembers the poem as both sets of sisters are finally reunited—with Jenna joining hers in death. This poem conveys the importance of sisterhood and family throughout the novel, as both Jenna and Nic have chosen to remain loyal to their sisters.