Marcus Kliewer’s We Used to Live Here continues to be one of my favorite horror books of recent years, so it’s no surprise I rushed to pick up his newest novel — The Caretaker — upon its April 2026 release. And after reading it, I can confirm that The Caretaker cements Kliewer as one of the weirdest horror writers of the 2020s. And let’s be clear: I mean that in the most complimentary possible way.
If, like me, you love mystery-box stories like Lost, Yellowjackets, and From, I have little doubt you’ll find enjoyment in Kliewer’s books. They benefit from a similar blending of suspense and smaller mysteries, each of which will leave viewers questioning how it fits into the bigger picture. For some of them, that will come to make sense as the story continues. For many, you’ll be left to draw your own conclusions.
This ensures that Kliewer’s work won’t be for everyone, but it’s certainly for those of us who can spend hours down a Reddit rabbit hole, reading up on fan theories and speculation. And given that We Used to Live Here got its start on Reddit, this makes perfect sense.
The Caretaker, which follows the desperate and down-on-her-luck Macy Mullins as she takes on a bizarre house-watching gig, benefits from the same mysterious and otherworldly vibes as We Used to Live Here. I’d say it’s a bit creepier, which works in the book’s favor. It also boasts deeper themes that make the entire novel more impressive. However, its shortcomings are also more noticeable, especially when it comes to one mystery-box trap that frequently causes disappointment.
The Caretaker Benefits From the Same Strange Mysteries as We Used to Live Here
The Caretaker opens with Macy traveling to a wealthy area to interview for a caretaking position, and her interview gets very weird, very quickly. When she arrives, she’s informed that the man she’s supposed to be caring for is actually dead. His wife, who is eager to get away from the house, wants her to look after it while she’s gone. The catch? Macy must follow rules dubbed “the Rites.” According to the now-deceased David Carnswel, they prevent the world from ending. Although his wife insists this is all just superstition, readers are given cause to believe otherwise; after all, we get an opening chapter from David’s POV.
So, Macy’s clearly being led into a trap. But with Mrs. Carnswel offering a whopping $9,000 for the weekend — and with Macy and her sister on the verge of eviction — she takes the job anyway. There’s something to be said for the book’s believable depiction of poverty and the desperation that often accompanies it. We don’t make our best decisions under financial pressure, and The Caretaker‘s entire story depends on it. With The Caretaker releasing in the midst of economic turmoil for many, this detail makes Macy’s journey feel that much more timely.
Of course, she only needs to survive 48 hours until Mrs. Carnswel’s return, but the Rites are bizarre and somewhat demanding. They range from ensuring all the lights are off at a certain hour — something the house itself seems committed to preventing — to dealing with rabbits and ghostly guests dubbed “Visitors.”
Failure to adhere to the Rites leads to them compounding on each other. There are a number of envelopes Macy must open if she misses one of them, and unsurprisingly, this happens repeatedly. Each failure brings Macy closer to the world ending, and it makes for a fast-paced and nail-biting read. Kliewer balances the suspense with some genuinely terrifying moments. It’s enough to satisfy horror and thriller lovers, and the deeper themes of the novel only make The Caretaker more worthy of praise.
Marcus Kliewer’s Latest Is a Seamless Exploration of Mental Illness & Grief
The Caretaker has all the suspense you’d expect from a horror novel, but its true power is in its depiction of mental illness and grief. As someone who struggles with depression, this book takes a genuinely stunning approach to it. Not only are Macy’s thoughts realistic and relatable, but The Caretaker‘s entire story functions as an allegory for depression, as well as OCD and grief.
Macy must go through the motions to survive, but doing so becomes increasingly harder, especially after she slips up. And the external world seems bent on conspiring against her, making it extremely difficult for Macy to succeed at the tasks at hand. Her struggle will feel all too familiar to anyone attempting to get by in a world not quite built for their brain.
Macy’s inability to stick to the Rites is also frustrating at times, something that speaks to the experience of dealing with mental illness and grief. How many of us experience similar frustrations with ourselves when failing to overcome our own limitations? And friends and family often feel the same when faced with our most disruptive symptoms. Macy may not prove a pleasure to read from for the entire book, but she feels painstakingly real and raw throughout it.
The Caretaker’s Ending Falls Prey to a Common Mystery-Box Complaint
There’s a lot to love about The Caretaker, and I read almost the entire book in one sitting. I’d certainly read more from Kliewer, and I’d call his second novel a success overall. However, its ending leaves a lot to be desired.
It’s a common complaint about mystery-box stories, and it’s one that’s included in many of the reviews for We Used to Live Here. The Caretaker does little to explain the lore that underlies its story. Although the book confirms that David’s Rites are, in fact, necessary — at least, if we assume Macy is a reliable narrator — we don’t get much of an explanation for their existence. Yes, they prevent the world from ending, but why? The reasoning behind the specific actions remains unclear. We don’t get insight into the other worlds destroyed by people like Macy, nor do we come to understand the Visitors, strange symbols, and house itself in much depth.
There’s a lot that should be elaborated on more here, even though a full breakdown would feel too heavy-handed. Stories like this must walk a careful line between “too ambiguous” and “not enough,” and The Caretaker veers too far in the former direction. Initially, it makes the book creepier and more gripping. However, by the end of the book, I found myself with more questions than answers. And with The Caretaker clocking in at under 300 pages, it could’ve taken a slightly more thorough approach. Even We Used to Live Here offered some clarity. In this book, there’s far less, but it’s still worth reading all the same.
Our Conclusion: 3.5/5 Stars
The Caretaker cements Marcus Kliewer as a master of mystery and suspense, even if it will leave readers wanting more answers. The strange storyline sets it apart from other horror releases, and it provides a worthy hook. The strangeness, combined with the twists, make this an undeniable page-turner. And some of The Caretaker‘s most terrifying imagery will stick with readers long after they’re done with it.
In addition to providing a solid reading experience for horror fans, The Caretaker tackles serious subjects — and it does so with care. It doesn’t shy away from the hardest parts of mental illness and grief, and Kliewer weaves those components of the book into its plot seamlessly.
The Caretaker isn’t a perfect novel, but its strengths truly shine. This makes it so that readers will want to take this journey, even if they’re not wholly satisfied with the destination.
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