“The Lost Girl”, Sangu Mandanna
Published August 28, 2012
Eva’s life is not her own. She is a creation, an abomination—an echo. Made by the Weavers as a copy of someone else, she is expected to replace a girl named Amarra, her “other”, if she ever died. Eva studies what Amarra does, what she eats, what it’s like to kiss her boyfriend, Ray. So when Amarra is killed in a car crash, Eva should be ready.
But fifteen years of studying never prepared her for this.
Now she must abandon everything she’s ever known—the guardians who raised her, the boy she’s forbidden to love—to move to India and convince the world that Amarra is still alive.
What Eva finds is a grief-stricken family; parents unsure how to handle this echo they thought they wanted; and Ray, who knew every detail, every contour of Amarra. And when Eva is unexpectedly dealt a fatal blow that will change her existence forever, she is forced to choose: Stay and live out her years as a copy or leave and risk it all for the freedom to be an original. To be Eva.
“What is this power the dead have over the ones they leave behind? It’s strange and beautiful and frightening, this deathless love that human being continue to feel for the ones they’ve lost.”
The Lost Girl was published back in 2012, but it feels ahead of its time in both premise and execution. The concept is striking: Eva is an “echo,” a copy created to take over a person’s life if the original (Amarra) dies. She’s been trained since childhood to live as someone else—to mimic Amarra’s quirks, her relationships, her entire existence—yet Eva has never truly allowed to be herself. It’s a premise that’s equal parts sci-fi and deeply human, and Mandanna explores it with nuance and heart.
There’s an underlying sadness that runs through the book. Eva’s journey is both a fight for survival and a quest for identity, and the emotional beats land all the harder for it. With Sangu Mandanna finding new popularity in recent years thanks to The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches, I think The Lost Girl deserves its own resurgence. It’s a thoughtful, haunting gem that never quite got the recognition it deserved—and one I’d happily press into the hands of anyone who loves character-driven speculative fiction.
Content Warnings
Note: This is not an exhaustive list of content and trigger warnings.
child death • confinement
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Owned: thrifted paperback