Extrasensory perception.
The Gift.
A Sixth Sense.
Or something else….

In 1964, four remarkable young women at a prestigious university became the subjects of parapsychology experiments by a visionary scientist. On the cusp of a historic breakthrough, the women mysteriously vanished and the program was erased from history. Decades later, Riley Bell, newly divorced and desperate for a fresh start, accepts a caretaker job for an elderly widow named Betty. Riley steps into a home that is frozen in another era – no microwave, television, or cell phones, and Betty has never heard of the internet. Why has Betty lived in such profound isolation for so many years, and why does she need Riley now? As the story unfolds across two timelines – Betty’s 1960s era of 5 o’clock martinis and high-stakes experiments, and Riley’s quest to uncover the truth about the missing women – old secrets rise to the surface. And the only way to survive is to confront the mystery that has lingered for sixty years.

Thanks to St. Martin’s Press and NetGalley for this review copy!

Sarah Pekkanen once again proves why she’s one of my favorite storytellers.

Set against the glossy, controlled backdrop of the 1960s and the modern-day world,  The Women in White is both sunlit and deeply unsettling. Pekkanen perfectly captures the era’s aesthetic and expectations: manicured lawns, dinner ready when the husband walks in, demure dresses, cocktails served with a smile. The atmosphere feels authentic and immersive — you can almost see the wallpaper and hear the clink of ice in the glasses. Beneath the sunshine, however, something far more unsettling simmers.

At the center of the story are four women (Betty, Kathleen, Ivy, and Helen) whose mysterious “Gift” draws the obsessive attention of a scientist more interested in his study than in their humanity. What makes this novel shine is the way Pekkanen gives each woman a fully realized backstory. Their personalities are wildly different, yet their bond grows into something fierce and sisterly. That emotional core anchors the story and makes their shared struggle resonate. Because the women don’t react uniformly to the experiments, the reader never feels secure in predicting the group’s next move. Their contrasting instincts create both solidarity and fracture, which drives the narrative forward.

Betty, in particular, stood out as a compelling force. Her determination to right the wrongs inflicted on the women adds a powerful moral thread to the novel. She challenges not only the scientist’s motivations but also the broader 1960s mentality that allowed these women to be minimized and manipulated. The darkness of the novel lies in that very dynamic — how their “Gift” overshadows the essence of who they truly are. She is driven not only by justice but by empathy, and her resolve anchors the group when tensions rise.

Caretaker Riley, who we meet at the beginning of the story is more conflicted — ambitious yet emotionally tethered to her past. She is hired to be a live in nurse for Betty, yet she feels that she is not really needed; Betty is very self-sufficient. Riley’s character is the go-between the 60’s and modern times – the story timeline moves back and forth, each chapter adding another layer to the story.  Her struggle with her ex-husband reflects the broader theme of women attempting to break free from systems that continue to exert control over them. While this subplot occasionally frustrated me, it also serves as a reminder of how difficult it was — and still can be — for women to fully disentangle themselves from financial and emotional dependency.

The scientist’s obsession with studying their Gift functions as both plot engine and thematic indictment. His single-minded pursuit of data, regardless of the psychological or ethical cost, underscores the novel’s darker question: when does curiosity become cruelty? The women are valued for what they can produce, not for who they are — and that erasure is the novel’s most chilling element.

Two elements kept this from a full five stars for me. Riley’s ongoing mental/emotional dealings with her husband felt repetitive and frustrating. Just as I began to warm to her, his reappearance would pull me out of the momentum. The back-and-forth weakened her arc and, in my opinion, didn’t add enough to justify its prominence. Additionally, some of the final twists stretched credibility. The ending moves quickly and delivers several sharp turns in succession — gripping, yes, but occasionally eyebrow-raising.

Still, Pekkanen’s strength lies in her ability to balance brightness and dread. The novel is both sunny and shadowed — a story about appearances, autonomy, and the cost of being extraordinary in a world that prefers compliance.

If you’re a fan of historical thrillers with strong female bonds, morally complex science, and stories that explore the cost of being extraordinary in a restrictive era, you’ll want to pick this up. Readers who enjoy the emotional tension of Kate Quinn or the psychological layering of Greer Hendricks & Sarah Pekkanen’s collaborative work will especially appreciate this one.

Want your own copy? You can pick it up here.