I just finished reading We Thought We Knew You. It is not the kind of book I usually read. At first I thought that I knew the outcome, why bother reading about. I pushed myself to read things I wouldn't normally read, and am I glad I did. It was a very well written narrative. I felt the characters were well enough fleshed out that they were people I knew. It had me rooting for the good guys, and holding my breath, worried that she would get away with it. I mourned Mary as if she was someone I knew. I gave a sigh of relief once the police started looking seriously at the killer. All in all, it ended the way it had to, but what a story. It just proved that like the title said, we never really know anyone. We may think we do, but it never is possible to know what is in another persons mind and heart. Or the reasoning behind why they feel the urge and need to do the things they do.