The first paragraph of The Book of Unknown Americans, the most recent novel of author Cristina Henríquez, ends with this sentence: “I assumed that everything that would go wrong in our lives already had.”

This is only the first instance of the ominous foreshadowing that is present throughout the novel, which tells the tale of the Riveras, who travel to Delaware from their home in México with the hope that life in the United States will provide better opportunities for their disabled 15-year-old daughter, Maribel. It is a story of their quest to build a strong and happy life in America, as well as that of their neighbors, which include the Toro family. The Toros traveled to the U.S. from Panama years ago and have two sons, one of which, Mayor, is about Maribel’s age.

As the Riveras settle in and attempt to make the best of their new and unfamiliar situation, Maribel and Mayor gradually become friends, seeing each other almost every day. Mayor, a social outcast at school, feels accepted by this new girl, while Maribel feels that he is the only one who truly sees her for her. However, as their friendship deepens into something much more, it causes complications for both families and contributes to consequences that no one saw coming.

The Book of Unknown Americans is often captivating, and without a doubt hard to put down. Henríquez’s writing is gorgeous–at times her words flow across the page like poetry, expertly communicating her character’s feelings and dilemmas. The narration switches from character to character, with Maribel’s mother, Alma, and Mayor serving as the primary narrators. One can feel Alma’s anxieties and fears for her daughter radiating from the page, as well as her desire to make their new home in America actually feel like it should–a home. She loves her daughter fiercely and protectively, but in a way that sometimes hinders her, as well. Mayor’s narration is similarly well written, and the reader can feel his affection for Maribel growing stronger as the novel continues.

Alma and Mayor’s narrations are interspersed with short chapters told from the points of view of their neighbors, giving brief looks into their own lives and how and why they came to the U.S. These are the “unknown Americans” referenced in the title: “The ones no one even wants to know,” says Micho Alvarez, a Mexican photographer, “Because they’ve been told they’re supposed to be scared of us.” These quick glimpses broaden the range of Henríquez’s story, touching on a myriad of experiences that give valuable insight into what has shaped her characters and the challenges they have faced. But at times, a few of these pieces lack some of the strong emotion present throughout the rest of the book, and can distract from the core plot. It may have helped to see the issues discussed–racism, xenophobia, etc.–more thoroughly integrated into the beginning and middle of the plot, so that we could see more of how they relate to the Riveras’ new life in addition to the lives of the more periphery characters. However, this does not make the points of view presented any less important, and they do carry an impact.

One point of the plot that I felt could have been more well-developed is the love story between Mayor and Maribel. There is no doubt about the intensity of their feelings for each other, especially when viewed from Mayor’s perspective, and these strong emotions are evident and striking. However, at times there doesn’t seem to be quite enough background for their love to have as much of an impact as it could on the reader. While Henríquez does include scenes of the two of them together, falling for each other, it does not feel like enough for the reader to have deep insight into how their connection is formed.

However, despite these points, most of the emotions and characters of the novel nevertheless feel real and tangible, in a way that grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. Henríquez’s characters are flawed and human, and find themselves grappling with complex issues of love, grief, and guilt, points that come to a startling head at the end of the novel when the plot twist that has been hinted at finally reveals itself. And, honestly, it hit me like a semitruck–despite the foreshadowing, it was difficult to anticipate exactly what would take place, and I truly can’t remember the last time a book made me cry that much. In spite of its flaws, The Book of Unknown Americans succeeds in communicating a depth of emotion and and pain that definitely left me thinking, and I’m sure I will be thinking about it for a little while more.