Don’t Let the Forest In meets The Whispering Dark in a queer YA cult horror following a recently diagnosed autistic teen who becomes enmeshed in a community of outcasts harboring sinister secrets.
“One of the best horror novels of the year, full stop. Haunting, heartfelt, and downright creepy.” —Kamilah Cole, bestselling author of So Let Them Burn
After a meltdown in her school cafeteria prompts an unwanted autism diagnosis, Cassie Davis moves back to her hometown in upstate New York, where her mom hopes the familiarity will allow Cassie to feel normal again. Cassie’s never truly felt normal anywhere, but she does crave the ease she used to have with her old friends.

Problem is that her friends aren’t so eager to welcome her back into the fold. They extend an olive branch by inviting her on their backpacking trip to Hollow Ridge, in the upper reaches of the Adirondacks. But when a fight breaks out their first night, Cassie wakes to a barren campsite—her friends all gone.
With severe weather approaching and nearing sensory overload, Cassie is saved by a boy named Kaleb, who whisks her away to a compound of artists and outcasts he calls the Roost. As Kaleb tends to her injuries, Cassie begins to feel—for the first time in her life—that she can truly be herself. But as the days pass, strange happenings around the Roost make Cassie question her instincts. Noises in the trees grow louder, begging the question: Are the dangers in the forest, on the trail, or in the Roost itself?
In a world where autistic characters rarely get to be the hero of their own stories, Cassie Davis’s one-step-back, two-steps-forward journey to unmasking makes Hollow as much a love letter to neurodiversity as it is a haunting tale you’ll want to read with the lights on.
Read if You Love:
First Love
Don’t Go in the Woods
Deadly Road Trips
CottageGORE
Malevolent Masks
Cults
Nerd-core
Wound-tending
If you love novels where the forest is more than backdrop – where it breathes, watches, and threatens – you’ll find a lot to relish here. Grothe’s prose is lush, sensory, and intimate – rendering the forest’s shadows and the internal life of Cassie with equal vividness.
Final Verdict
Hollow is a bold and beautiful entry into YA horror. It’s unsettling without being gratuitous, tender while remaining thrilling, and deeply concerned with what it means to be seen when you’re used to hiding. For readers who love horror that lingers, stories about identity and community on the fringe, and characters who fight to be themselves in a world that expects masks – this is a standout. We wholeheartedly recommend it, while cautioning those sensitive to ambiguous endings and creeping dread: read with the lights on and maybe someone nearby.
