Summer, 1986. Tween sisters Georgie Ayyar and Agatha Krishna welcome their aunt, uncle and young cousin - newly arrived from India - into their house in rural Wyoming where they'll all live together. Because this is what families do. That is, until the sisters decide that it's time for their uncle to die.

To understand why, you need to hear Georgie's story. It's one of violence hiding in their house and history, of her once-unshakeable bond with her sister, of being an Indian-American girl in the heart of the West. Her account is cheeky, unflinching and infectiously inflected with the trappings of teendom: pen pal letters, how-to guides, games of MASH and teen-magazine-style quizzes. And the tale she weaves is either:

a) a vivid portrait of an extended family
b) a moving story of sisterhood
c) a playful ode to the 80s
d) a murder mystery (of sorts)
e) a ruthless meditation on history and language, trauma and healing, and the meaning of independence

Or maybe it's really:

f) all of the above.