Review of Deceptive Calm

[Daphine Mathies]

[Following is a volunteer review of "Deceptive Calm" by Patricia Skipper.]

---

5 out of 5 stars

---

Share This Review

---

Some stories linger—not because of explosive action, but because they unsettle something deeper. Deceptive Calm is one of those. It drew me in slowly, then cracked open layers I didn’t expect. I can say, by the time I turned the final page, I wasn’t reading to see how it ended—I was reading to see how Vanessa, the protagonist, would reclaim her voice. And maybe even her life.

At its heart, this book is about identity. Hidden, denied, reclaimed. Vanessa Vaughn—or rather, Vanessa Condon—is a woman born into a complicated past and thrust into a life that’s not entirely her own. She marries into the obscenely wealthy Von Westerkamp family, a name that oozes privilege and power, but also conceals a rot that runs deep. What fascinated me most—and what I think is worth discussing with anyone who picks up this book—is the way Hill uses Vanessa’s concealed African-American heritage to anchor the whole narrative. The revelation comes not in a family argument or a DNA test, but through her son’s medical crisis. Brett’s sickle cell diagnosis flips everything. That moment—medical, scientific, cold on the surface—carries the emotional temperature of an explosion. I remember pausing to absorb what it meant, not just for Vanessa, but for a family that built itself around the illusion of racial “purity.”

The idea of “passing” isn’t new in fiction, but Hill handles it with unusual nuance. She doesn’t glamorize Vanessa’s choices, nor does she judge her. Instead, the story builds a quiet kind of horror around how survival sometimes demands silence. That silence, though, is slowly replaced with resolve. Watching Vanessa unravel the lies around her, while simultaneously choosing how and when to tell the truth, was one of the most rewarding parts of the book. And I really mean that. She's one of the most layered female characters I’ve read in a while. Her strength isn’t flashy. It’s in her quiet refusal to disappear—even when disappearing might have been safer.

That said, I have to admit, the beginning didn’t hook me right away. It took several chapters for the stakes to solidify, and in those early pages, I found myself occasionally putting the book down and wondering whether the emotional payoff would come. It did, eventually, but I can see how a less patient reader might not wait for the story to gather steam. The early scenes—lavish parties, emotionally distant husband, disapproving in-laws—felt familiar, maybe even predictable. But once Brett’s illness hit, everything sharpened. The story morphed from domestic drama into something closer to a medical thriller layered with social commentary.

Hill’s decision to center a friendship like Vanessa and Trisha’s was another standout choice. Trisha isn’t a throwaway sidekick. She’s brave, impulsive, and occasionally a little reckless—but in a way that feels deeply human. The scene where she dives back into the ocean to rescue Vanessa and Brett after their Range Rover plummets from a cliff? I don’t think I blinked the entire time. And when I found out that the crash wasn’t an accident, that it was a planned execution orchestrated by the very people who claimed to love Vanessa... it hit hard. That’s the kind of betrayal that’s hard to write without descending into melodrama, but Hill walks that line with surprising care.

I also appreciated how the book didn’t rush to wrap things up in a neat bow. Even after justice is served—after the arrests, the public reckoning, the media frenzy—Vanessa’s healing feels real because it’s slow. She writes, she parents, she grieves, she rebuilds. And when she visits the grave of the nun who raised her, it’s not for closure exactly. It’s for grounding. She doesn’t need to tie her past in a pretty ribbon. She just needs to name it.

If I had to sum up the book’s tone in one feeling, it would be restrained fire. There’s anger, yes. Betrayal. Injustice. But it simmers rather than explodes. And by the end, that calm is no longer deceptive. It’s earned.

I’m giving this book a full 5 out of 5 stars. Even with the slower start, the depth of the protagonist, the bravery of its themes, and the emotional intelligence with which it tells a difficult story outweigh any pacing complaints I had. If anything, I think the quieter beginning helped underline the weight of what was to come. So if you’re willing to wade through a little stillness, the storm that follows is well worth it.

******
Deceptive Calm
View: on Bookshelves | on Amazon

[Shirley Ann Riddern Labzentis]

Hill is not the author of Deceptive Calm. Patricia Skipper is.