Knowing that there are new(-to-me) Enola Holmes books out there is like having Girl Scout cookies in the house: how am I supposed to think of, let alone read/eat, anything else? In this installment, there's a friend in trouble, a tyrant-cum-criminal father, and the ever-crushing weight of the Victorian patriarchy. Really, developing a dual personality is the only way to survive. That, or dress up like a spunky, master-of-disguise detective and save the day! In all honesty, not quite as good as the earlier Enola books, but I'll take my fix where I can get it.
P.S. I'd like to lodge a formal complaint about the cover art. Enola has a too-large nose and an aristocratic horse face (her words). That Teen Vogue girl with the over-the-shoulder, come-hither look is not my ̶p̶r̶e̶s̶i̶d̶e̶n̶t̶ Enola.