Siblings Escape a Cult, Only to Get Embroiled in a Murder Investigation — See the Cover ofOur Last Resort(Exclusive)

Mar. 15, 2025

Clémence Michallon; ‘Our Last Resort’ book cover.Photo:Gabrielle Malewski; Knopf

Gabrielle Malewski; Knopf

A luxe resort, a dead body, cult escapees —Our Last Resorthas all the ingredients for a hot summer suspense.

Frida and Gabriel come to the stunning Ara Hotel in the secluded desert of Escalante, Utah, looking for a fresh start. After a sudden tragedy, the once-close siblings have grown apart and they’re hoping some time away at the luxe resort will bring them back in sync. That is, until a beautiful young woman who was there with her much older, powerful husband turns up dead.

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When the local police put the resort on lockdown while they investigate, Gabriel and Frida are reminded of their upbringing in a secluded cult in upstate New York — not to mention their dramatic, fiery escape from the charismatic leader’s clutches 15 years earlier that they had always thought bonded them for life.Alternating between past and present timelines, the publisher promises a “taut, gripping and intense” nail-biter with a “shattering climax,” as we learn the murdered guest’s fate, as well as secrets Gabriel and Frida have been carrying for years.

Below, get a taste of the tension in an exclusive excerpt fromOur Last Resort.

Knopf

Escalante, Utah

The fourth night

There are times when joy settles perfectly inside my body.

I notice.

The world twisted out of shape around me, years ago. My brain rewired itself to keep me safe.Check your door before bed,it tells me. Once, twice, three times. Unlock the door to make sure it was locked. Then lock it again.

Look through the peephole. Make sure the stove is off. Is the dog okay? Is he breathing?

Doesn’t matter that you’ve already checked. Do it one more time.

My mind: always anxious. My whole world like a dollhouse. I know where everything is, how everything works. No surprises.

Which makes the exceptions all the more vivid. Happiness sprouting in the unlikeliest places, a green spray of ivy curling around barbed wire, flowers blooming on the grassy surface of a shallow grave.

Like now. Gabriel asleep in our shared suite, me on our private patio. Above, the desert sky.

In a few hours, the sun will rise. The hotel, our unlikely oasis of straight lines and modern architecture, will flood with natural light. Morning smells will waft through the air, the rich aroma of coffee, fresh bursts of perfume, the sweet mist of sunscreen. The pool will shimmer, golden-blue, like a mirage. Guests will head to breakfast in a sleepy shuffle.

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But for now, it’s all quiet. All mine. The insomniac’s privilege.

I reach in the pocket of my hoodie, pull a cigarette from the pack, click my lighter.

First puff. A gust of wind teases the hem of my shorts, lifts it at the edge of the three white stripes.

I’m not alone.

The thought cuts through my mind in a red slash.

Two voices disrupt the night’s quiet.

I know these voices. I’ve heard them intermittently over the past four days, rippling in hushed tones near the spa, in clipped sentences over the dinner table.

The young wife and her old husband.

“Look,” I told Gabriel, my elbow digging into his ribs. “That’s William Brenner.”

When he didn’t respond, I explained: “He’s a big tabloid guy. Wealthy. I think that’s his … third wife?”

Trailing her, the blunt shape of her husband. William Brenner radiates an uncompromising kind of confidence, from the shiny top of his balding skull to his professionally polished loafers. He’s got that smile, too — the sly grin of a man who has never wanted for the company of ladies. Who knows himself to be not handsome, but charming, and who understands that charming is enough to get what he wants.

The documentary was about the tabloid culture of the two thousands, specifically the ways in which it ruined people’s lives. “People like good stories,” William Brenner had said, his bulk perched incongruously on an ornate armchair in his Upper East Side apartment. “And we are here to give them exactly that.”

What’s he saying now?

source: people.com