A woman sits at her desk and writes letters, and not occasionally, or sentimentally, but as a discipline, almost as a way of holding her life in place. It sounds gentle, even quaint, until you begin to understand what those letters are doing for her, what they are protecting her from, and what they are quietly refusing to face.

At its core, Brawler is concerned with pressure—domestic, emotional, and structural. Across nine stories, Groff returns to familiar terrain: women navigating violence, families shaped by obligation, and the quiet distortions of class and power. The opening story, “The Wind,” is the clearest articulation of what the collection does well. It is tense, immersive, and emotionally exact, establishing a tone that promises something quietly devastating.