Once in a while I read a book that I both love and hate - love because it's fascinating or compelling or entertaining or full of wonderful and sympathetic characters or has a great plot or maybe all of the above, and hate for the simple reason that the story just doesn't go the way I wanted it to. This was one of those books. And then I realize that, with the exception of several details, I'm not sure the story could have been told any other way, and then I hate it even more. Doesn't make it any less good, but it does make it deeply unsatisfying. Still loved it, though.