Apples Never Fall is by genre a mystery—a woman who’s a mother of four and a wife of nearly 50 years, disappears without explanation on Valentine’s Day. The mystery genre presumes the drive to solution, a plotline in which piece-by-piece explanation occurs through the methodical processes of gathering clues that all lead to a pat—and in the end stunningly logical—solution. That genre demands a central, stable narrative voice—either the overarching omniscient author or a character who, like the reader, moves methodically through clues toward the reward of solution.

Apples Never Fall, however, has no such secure and stable narrative voice, no reassuring presence to help usher the reader through the slow revelation of answers. Instead, each chapter moves from the limited omniscience of one character to another: In one chapter, Joy dominates; in the next one, the Delaney siblings do; in another, one of the Delaneys’ nosy neighbors is the narrator, in the next one, the police detectives take over. This splintered narrative is further enhanced by chapters that shift between the three weeks after Joy’s disappearance (the chapters labeled “Now”) and the three months from Savannah’s appearance at the Delaney doorstep to the Valentine’s Day morning when Joy goes missing (the chapters labeled by date or month).