Who Are The Main Suspects In 'What Happened To Ruthy Ramirez'?

The mystery in 'What Happened to Ruthy Ramirez' keeps you guessing, but a few suspects stand out. The creepy neighbor Mr. Alvarez tops my list—his shady past and weird obsession with Ruthy before she vanished scream guilt. Then there's her ex-boyfriend Carlos, who had violent tendencies and was seen arguing with her the night she disappeared. The Ramirez family itself isn't clean either; Ruthy's sister Nina had a bitter rivalry with her, and their mom's controlling nature makes me wonder what happened behind closed doors. Even the local drug dealer Luis gets suspicion since Ruthy owed him money. The book does a great job making everyone look suspicious while dropping subtle clues about who might really be responsible.

Diving into 'What Happened to Ruthy Ramirez,' the suspect pool is deeper than it first appears. The obvious choices are there—Carlos with his temper, Mr. Alvarez with his sketchy alibi—but the novel cleverly makes you question everyone.

The Ramirez household is a pressure cooker of secrets. The mother, Dolores, hides financial struggles and might've pushed Ruthy to desperate measures. Sister Nina's jealousy simmers in every scene, especially after Ruthy stole her college fund. Even the father, though absent most of the book, had motives tied to an old insurance policy.

Outside the family, the town’s corrupt police chief ignores leads because Ruthy was 'just another troubled Latina girl' in his eyes. Then there's Jessica, Ruthy's best friend, who knew about her plans to flee but lied to investigators. The beauty of this story is how it makes you distrust every character while peeling back layers of systemic neglect that allowed Ruthy’s disappearance to go unsolved for so long.

This book turns suspicion into an art form. Beyond the usual suspects, it implicates entire systems—the failing school that ignored Ruthy’s cries for help, the overworked social worker who missed abuse signs, even the bystander culture in their neighborhood.

Personally, I think the truth lies with someone unexpected: Ruthy’s quiet younger brother, Mateo. His chapters hint at buried rage, and he’s the only one who benefits from her disappearance (getting her bedroom, finally getting attention). The author drops breadcrumbs—his fixation on true crime shows, his knack for lying smoothly.

What chills me is how the real villain might be collective indifference. The teachers who wrote her off as 'dramatic,' the relatives who whispered she 'probably ran away,' even the readers making assumptions based on stereotypes. The genius of this mystery is that the answer isn’t just whodunit—it’s who failed her along the way.