"Trías deftly turns her brief fiction into universal parable." —Shelf Awareness"An exceptional novel." —ABC Cultural"Like a constrictor slowly suffocating its prey, Trías already has you well within her grasp long before you even know what’s happening." —Jeremy Garber, Powell's Bookshop"A chilling tour-de-force by one of the most exciting and subversive voices writing today in Latin America." —Morning Star"A short and powerful read, it demands to be re-read and scrutinised." —Lunate"what is most striking about the book is the intensity of the claustrophobia and paranoia" —The Publishing Post"Many read Rooftop like a disturbing love story between a father and his daughter, but this novel is much more than that. It is the genesis of the themes that will be at the centre of everything that Trías would move on to write: fear, violence, loss and freedom." —WMagazín"Masterfully written, with a simplicity and honesty that reminds us of the prose of Flannery O’Connor." —Revista de Letras**********Praise for Fernanda Trías'Fernanda Trías appears from the antipodes of the sterile literature currently in vogue, to show us she is one of the most interesting authors writing in Spanish today.’—Mario Levrero , author of Empty Words

Will appeal to readers of Ariana Harwicz or Ferrante's Days of AbandonmentClaustrophobic (in a Lars Von Trier/Peter Haneke way) without succumbing to any formal drags—this is immensely readable stuffMario Levrero has said "“Fernanda Trías appears to be one of the most interesting authors writing in Spanish today" and this translation is the work of the well-known and -liked Annie McDermottPart of Charco's inaugural season of Spanish language editionsMarketing PlansSimultaneous launch of English and Spanish editionsSimultaneous UK/North American launchSocial media campaignGalleys availableCo-op availableAdvance reader copies (print and digital)National media campaignTargeted bookseller mailingSimultaneous eBook launch

If they came right now they’d find me face-up on the bed, in the same position I threw myself down in around midnight. Eleven thirty-eight, to be precise: the time when I took my last look at the clock and when everything came to an end. I gave Flor a kiss, told her to sleep tight and she closed her eyes as if it were a night like any other.The candle burnt out a while ago and now the darkness is swallowing the walls. It’s as if the whole world knew and was crouching down in wait, all because of me. I don’t know what time it is but the later it gets the less frightened I feel, and the less I feel anything at all. Whatever happens, they’ll have to break down the door, because I put the chain on and wedged the chest of drawers against it. Dad and Flor are in the other room and in a funny way they’re keeping each other company. Not me; I have no one, but I’m determined to stay awake as I wait.I hear a siren in the distance: an ambulance or a police car, I can never tell which. As it comes closer, my heart pounds in my chest. The sound turns shrill and leaves me dazed as it goes by under the window. Red light flashed onto the walls for an instant, like tiny flame-figures dancing in the air. Now the siren fades away and I’m back in the shadowy silence of the room. Alone. I have to convince myself that what’s in the other room isn’t a man, isn’t my dad. Tucked up side by side they looked like they were sleeping.It’s hard to believe I had a life before this one, a job, a house, which I now remember nothing about. For me, real life began with Julia’s death, went on for four years and came to an end today.