The Lost Girls of Willowbrook

The setting for much of the novel is also a motif highlighting The Deceptive Nature of Appearances. Sage’s first impression of the eerily empty Willowbrook is that it “seemed more like a prison than a school” (27) where ”no children played outside. No teachers watched over recess or led groups of students on walks” (28). But she dismisses this insight when Willowbrook’s exterior appears benign: “In front of the buildings, gaily painted benches, swing sets, carousels, and monkey bars dotted the yards, all capped with tufts of snow” (28). The playground equipment is contrasted with the marked absence of happy children—a discrepancy that is explained when Sage sees the horrible wards, which “reminded her of a concentration camp” (64). The comparison between a facility that is supposed to provide care, rehabilitation, job training, and education to a genocidal death camp emphasizes the mismatch between the appearance of Willowbrook and its reality.

Willowbrook’s atmosphere of secrecy, fearful and self-dealing management, and manufactured image of care, all create a space for abuse, violence, and death. Attempts to expose the reality of Willowbrook—such as Dr. Wilkins’s decision to allow in news cameras—are ignored. Only after a police investigation does the facade of Willowbrook crack; even then, the facility lasts for decades longer. All of this makes Eddie’s argument that his theatrical murders of Rosemary and Evie were to try to shut Willowbrook down compelling, given the level of deception employed to maintain the secrets at Willowbrook.