I went into Little Girls expecting a straightforward haunted house story, but what I got was something much quieter, sadder, and more unsettling than I anticipated. This is very much a slow-burn horror that relies on atmosphere, memory, and creeping dread rather than shocks. The story follows Laurie as she returns to her childhood home after her father’s death, and almost immediately the house feels heavy with things left unsaid. As pieces of her past resurface, the line between psychological trauma and supernatural influence starts to blur. There’s an eerie friendship involving her daughter and a strange little girl next door that made me increasingly uncomfortable the further I read. Light spoiler: the book hints strongly at a dark childhood incident and a presence that never truly left, and by the end there’s a bleak implication about a character’s fate that isn’t spelled out but is disturbing once you connect the dots. I liked that Malfi trusted the reader enough not to overexplain everything, though I know that kind of ambiguity won’t work for everyone. In terms of comparison, this reminded me more of The Haunting of Hill House than modern fast-paced horror. It’s very moody, very psychological, and deeply tied to the house itself. It also gave me The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters vibes, where the horror seeps in slowly and you’re never entirely sure what’s real and what’s being shaped by guilt and memory. If you’re expecting something intense and relentless like Bird Box, this isn’t that kind of book. The pacing can feel slow at times, and there were moments where I wished things would move a bit faster, but the payoff is in the atmosphere rather than action. This is the kind of horror that lingers quietly after you finish, leaving you unsettled instead of startled. Overall, Little Girls is haunting, melancholic, and uncomfortable in the best way. I’d recommend it to readers who enjoy psychological horror, ambiguous endings, and stories where the real terror comes from the past refusing to stay buried.