The Rivals by Jane Pek Summary, Characters and Themes

The Rivals by Jane Pek is a contemporary mystery that unfolds in the gray zones between surveillance, identity, and modern romance.  At its center is Claudia Lin, a queer Chinese American woman working as a verifier for a discreet agency that investigates dating profiles.

The novel explores how technology warps the nature of truth and connection, especially in a world run by algorithms and hidden corporate motives.  Claudia’s job blurs the line between investigator and voyeur, and her growing emotional investment in both her cases and her colleagues exposes her to ethical dilemmas and personal revelations. Through Claudia’s sharp voice, the book questions what it means to really know someone—and oneself—when reality can be edited as easily as a profile.

Summary

Claudia Lin begins the new year with personal resolutions: to visit her mother more often, date seriously, and judge less.  But her ideals are quickly tested when Mason Perry, a wealthy banker, hires Veracity—her employer—to investigate his girlfriend, Amalia Suarez.

Claudia is immediately suspicious of Mason’s smug demeanor and motives.  Still, she begins investigating Amalia, a product manager with a curated, thoughtful online presence.

Claudia is captivated not only by Amalia’s profile but also by her aura of authenticity.  When Claudia meets Amalia under the guise of an online movie meetup, she is drawn into a connection that feels sincere, even as it contradicts her professional ethics.

Simultaneously, Claudia handles a secondary case involving Pradeep Mehta, a nervous client who claims his ex-boyfriend Matthew has cloned his dating profile.  His paranoia points toward something more disturbing—the possibility that dating apps like Let’s Meet are weaponizing user data and creating AI-generated duplicates or “synths.”

Claudia’s co-worker Becks dismisses the case, but Claudia senses that Pradeep’s concerns are valid, especially given the mysterious deaths of whistleblowers connected to dating platforms.

Claudia’s world becomes further complicated during a Lunar New Year dinner with her family.  Tensions rise with her siblings, especially Coraline, who confronts Claudia about past emotional neglect and familial favoritism.

The evening underscores Claudia’s alienation from her family and her difficulty navigating relationships outside her work.  She is haunted by the realization that her emotional disconnection may be rooted in a deeper fear of vulnerability.

Returning to work, Claudia clashes with Becks, who criticizes her for engaging emotionally with targets and violating company protocols.  Yet Becks isn’t as invulnerable as she appears.

A subtle bond begins to form between the two women, built on shared disillusionment and unspoken desire.  Becks even confesses her own family struggles, momentarily bridging the emotional gap between them.

As Claudia continues pursuing both cases, she uncovers unsettling truths.  Mason had lied about Amalia’s whereabouts to test Veracity’s competence.

Meanwhile, Pradeep’s fears turn out to have merit—Matthew, now working at Let’s Meet, may have been involved in a scheme to expose user data and simulate behavioral outcomes.  Claudia suspects that dating platforms are experimenting with digital twins—AI profiles built from real people’s data to simulate, predict, and potentially influence romantic decisions.

At a film screening, Claudia impresses Amalia with her knowledge of the cult spy movie The Somnang Files.  Their flirtation grows, and despite her efforts to maintain a cover identity, Claudia begins to hope for something real.

Her attraction becomes complicated by guilt—she is surveilling someone she genuinely likes.  But she can’t stop herself from wanting more, even after Becks warns her about entanglement.

The investigation takes a darker turn when Claudia discovers more information about Pradeep’s death and its possible connection to Matthew.  Claudia manipulates Matthew into confessing that he was romantically involved with Pradeep, who had been pressured into a heterosexual engagement.

After a tense conversation on a pier, Matthew gives Claudia a stolen hard drive containing sensitive data and then jumps into the river, apparently ending his life.  Claudia is devastated, and Becks has to physically pull her away from the scene.

The hard drive disappears, and Claudia is left with unanswered questions and mounting guilt.

As Claudia recovers from her injury and emotional burnout, she reconnects with Jessie, her brother’s ex-girlfriend, who reveals that Claudia’s brother Charles broke up with her due to job loss shame—a pattern that mirrors Claudia’s own emotional withdrawal.  A parallel begins to emerge between Claudia’s personal avoidance and the fabricated identities she investigates for work.

The mystery deepens when Claudia learns from a journalist that Matthew may have been involved in another suspicious death before his suicide.  Meanwhile, Claudia’s sister Coraline uses an app called WhatShould to inquire about a man claiming to be her and Claudia’s father, raising questions about their family history and another potential secret long buried.

Eventually, the missing hard drive reappears through an odd dead-drop involving mooncakes and an inside joke between Claudia and Becks.  When they recover it, the data suggests deliberate design in the creation of digital twins.

These simulations are not just innocent tools—they could be used to steer human decisions, manipulate emotions, and construct entire false narratives around real people.

Claudia then unexpectedly runs into Amalia again and learns that Amalia and Mason were part of a rival organization, Checkmark, which surveilled Veracity in turn.  Amalia is part of the Dream, a group trying to expose the rise of synthetic agents.

She tells Claudia their goal is not to destroy the AI-generated profiles but to “free” them—suggesting an evolving philosophy about identity and autonomy in digital space.  Amalia’s invitation is both an olive branch and a new challenge, complicating Claudia’s sense of mission, loyalty, and belief in what’s real.

The book closes with Claudia standing at a crossroads—between the personal and the professional, between surveillance and trust, between the synthetic and the authentic.  Her journey reflects the tension between knowing and connecting, especially when the tools used to find the truth are the very ones that obscure it.

The Rivals leaves readers questioning how much of what we see is real, how much of what we feel can be trusted, and what it means to navigate a world where even love can be reverse-engineered.

Characters

Claudia Lin

Claudia Lin stands at the heart of The Rivals, functioning as both its narrator and emotional core.  A first-generation Asian American and a verifier at the covert firm Veracity, Claudia embodies the tensions between professional detachment and personal longing.

Throughout the novel, she is shown to be whip-smart, observant, and haunted by an unspoken loneliness that seeps into both her work and family life.  While she initially approaches each case with a measure of cynicism and self-righteousness, her interactions—particularly with clients like Pradeep and targets like Amalia—reveal her vulnerability and inner conflict.

Claudia’s deep love for mystery novels becomes an internal compass, guiding her through the murky landscape of digital surveillance and emotional truth.  Yet she is not immune to the seductions of those she observes.

Her fascination with Amalia blurs ethical boundaries and reveals Claudia’s hunger for intimacy, authenticity, and meaning in an increasingly synthetic world.  Simultaneously, her strained family ties—especially with her siblings Coraline and Charles—expose the personal scars left by a childhood shaped by emotional neglect and uneven maternal love.

Claudia emerges as a modern detective for the algorithmic age: one who solves puzzles in others’ lives while struggling to untangle the contradictions in her own identity.

Becks

Becks, Claudia’s enigmatic and sharp-witted colleague at Veracity, plays a vital role as both foil and mirror to Claudia.  Known for her hyper-logical mind and exacting ethical standards, Becks initially seems impervious to emotional nuance, often dismissing Claudia’s empathy as a liability in their line of work.

However, as the novel progresses, her character peels back to reveal depth, trauma, and a surprising emotional acuity.  Becks has endured immense personal loss—most notably the death of her green-card husband, a secret that humanizes her stoic demeanor.

She becomes a confidante and, subtly, a romantic prospect for Claudia.  Their emotionally charged dynamic simmers with unspoken longing, curiosity, and mutual respect.

Becks’s pragmatic worldview is challenged by the sinister implications of the synth technology, prompting her to reexamine her place within Veracity and her trust in Claudia.  Her decision to support Claudia in the emotionally turbulent aftermath of Matthew’s death reveals the quiet, fiercely loyal heart beneath her cool exterior.

Ultimately, Becks offers both grounding and emotional possibility—a beacon of reality and complexity in a world ruled by simulation and façade.

Amalia Suarez

Amalia Suarez is a central figure of mystery and allure in The Rivals, captivating both the narrative and Claudia’s emotional world.  Initially presented as the girlfriend of Mason Perry and a target of Veracity’s investigation, Amalia quickly subverts this role by revealing layers of authenticity, intelligence, and rebellion.

A lover of literary magical realism and esoteric spy films, she piques Claudia’s curiosity and soon becomes an object of both professional interest and personal attraction.  But Amalia is not simply a passive subject under scrutiny—she is a player in her own right.

Eventually revealed to be part of a rival activist collective called the Dream, Amalia transforms from target to ideological provocateur.  Her group’s mission—to liberate, not destroy, the AI synths—offers a morally complex vision that challenges Claudia’s own assumptions about justice and agency.

Their shared kiss, laced with guilt and unresolved desire, becomes emblematic of the blurred lines between ethics and intimacy, observer and observed.  Amalia’s character complicates notions of truth, resistance, and control, making her not just a foil for Claudia’s development but a catalyst for the novel’s broader philosophical inquiries.

Mason Perry

Mason Perry, the privileged investment banker who initially hires Veracity to vet Amalia, serves as a symbol of entitled opacity and corporate manipulation.  He is marked early on by Claudia’s suspicion and quiet disdain—embodying the smug confidence of someone who assumes access to truth is his by birthright.

Yet Mason is not merely a clueless elite; he is a calculated actor with a hidden agenda.  His decision to test Veracity’s competence by lying about Amalia’s whereabouts marks him as deceitful and strategic, raising ethical red flags.

As the narrative unfolds, his role deepens, aligning him with Amalia’s collective and the subversive project of Checkmark.  This twist repositions Mason not just as a manipulator but as a man embedded in the complex web of surveillance and counter-surveillance.

Though never rendered with the same psychological depth as Claudia or Amalia, Mason’s character underscores the novel’s skepticism toward power, wealth, and the ease with which systems of accountability can be gamed.

Pradeep Mehta

Pradeep Mehta is one of the most tragic figures in The Rivals—a jittery, anxious client whose fears initially appear paranoid but are later validated with chilling clarity.  A gay man struggling with cultural expectations, Pradeep is haunted by the possibility that his ex-boyfriend, Matthew, has created a digital replica of him using sensitive data.

His case, initially dismissed by Becks as delusional, becomes a doorway into the novel’s darker revelations about the weaponization of identity and data.  Pradeep’s desperation and fragmented mental state reflect the devastating psychological toll of being surveilled and closeted.

His death, possibly at the hands of Matthew or as a result of a manipulated reality, marks a devastating emotional and ethical rupture for Claudia.  Pradeep’s story exposes the cruel intersections of technology, sexuality, shame, and vulnerability, making him a powerful symbol of the human cost behind algorithmic experimentation.

Matthew

Matthew is a former Let’s Meet employee whose transformation from ex-boyfriend to potential killer adds a noir edge to the narrative.  His relationship with Pradeep is marked by secrecy, suppressed affection, and eventually, tragic guilt.

Matthew’s confession—delivered during a harrowing confrontation on a pier—suggests that he may have killed Pradeep, possibly to “spare” him from a closeted life.  His suicide or possible disappearance into the Hudson River further layers his character with ambiguity and grief.

For Claudia, Matthew represents both a key to the mystery and a mirror of ethical transgression: a man who crossed every boundary in the name of love or control.  His past, linked to another mysterious death, further muddies his motives.

Ultimately, Matthew is portrayed as a haunted, morally compromised figure whose inability to reconcile desire with decency results in irrevocable harm.

Coraline and Charles

Coraline and Charles, Claudia’s siblings, represent the emotional terrain of her unresolved childhood.  Coraline is sharp-tongued and deeply resentful, carrying the wounds of perceived neglect and favoritism in their family.

Her meditation practice leads her to confront Claudia with painful truths about their upbringing—truths that Claudia finds difficult to accept but cannot dismiss.  Coraline becomes a voice of accountability, challenging Claudia’s narratives of innocence and passive suffering.

Charles, in contrast, is emotionally withdrawn, a workaholic whose sense of duty masks profound shame and fear of vulnerability.  His breakup with Jessie and potential connection to a dangerous tech project echo Claudia’s own pattern of isolation and moral compromise.

Together, the siblings form a broken mirror of familial dysfunction, each scarred in different ways by the same mother.  Their presence in the story deepens its exploration of identity, guilt, and the longing for emotional repair.

Jessie

Jessie, Charles’s ex-girlfriend, serves as both a sympathetic outsider and a narrative catalyst.  Her concerns about Charles’s emotional unavailability and workaholic tendencies shed light on the family’s broader emotional dysfunction.

Jessie provides Claudia with insights not just into Charles but into herself—forcing her to recognize patterns of avoidance and unacknowledged grief.  Jessie’s warmth and clarity offer a moment of reprieve and reflection in a story otherwise filled with mistrust and secrecy.

She anchors Claudia briefly in a world of human decency and concern, reminding the reader that even amidst digital chaos and betrayal, real emotional connection is still possible.

Squirrel

Squirrel is a quirky, minor character whose presence injects moments of levity and surrealism.  As part of the zombie gaming simulation toward the novel’s end, Squirrel accompanies Claudia and Becks in navigating a metaphor-laden world of lost humanity and simulation.

His role, while not deeply developed, highlights the absurdity and strangeness of the emerging digital frontier.  In the allegorical zombie world, Squirrel becomes a stand-in for the everyperson—witnessing, reacting, and surviving without necessarily understanding the full implications of the forces at play.

His inclusion serves to humanize and soften the dystopian turn of the narrative.

Themes

Surveillance and the Illusion of Truth

In The Rivals, surveillance is not just a professional tool but a pervasive condition of modern life.  Claudia’s role at Veracity hinges on monitoring and verifying digital identities, a job that places her at the crossroads of technology and intimacy.

The novel repeatedly asks whether surveillance brings clarity or deepens obfuscation.  Claudia uses tracking apps, digital footprints, and online behavior patterns to reach conclusions about people’s emotional authenticity, but these methods often leave her uncertain rather than enlightened.

As she follows Amalia, Mason, and later Matthew, the data she collects becomes a murky filter instead of a window.  The algorithms behind dating platforms—opaque, manipulative, and easily gamed—are a metaphor for the broader erosion of privacy and trust.

Even inside her workplace, Claudia feels the invasive tug of unseen forces shaping outcomes, whether it’s Becks’s constant monitoring or the invisible hand of larger tech firms like Let’s Meet.  The rise of synths—AI-generated profiles based on real user data—exposes the horrifying possibility that even our simulated selves might be more coherent or successful than we are.

Surveillance here becomes a recursive nightmare: a mirror that reflects not who you are, but what someone else wants you to be.  Claudia’s discomfort grows as she realizes her tools of truth-making can be, and already are, turned against others in deeply consequential ways.

By the time Amalia reappears as a member of a rival activist group, Claudia is forced to confront the terrifying possibility that her profession doesn’t uncover truth—it enforces a narrative shaped by whoever controls the data.

Familial Estrangement and Emotional Inheritance

Claudia’s strained relationship with her family functions as an emotional counterpoint to the technological themes in the book.  The annual Lunar New Year dinner, framed by passive-aggressive conversations and unresolved bitterness, reveals the unspoken resentments among the Lin siblings.

Claudia feels peripheral to her brother Charles and sister Coraline, unable to breach their shared history or their private alliances.  Coraline’s accusations are especially cutting: that Claudia failed to advocate for her or Charles during their mother’s more abusive phases.

This accusation shifts Claudia’s self-understanding from passive victim to complicit bystander.  Familial relationships in The Rivals are haunted not by dramatic betrayals but by everyday failures—by the ways children inherit not just trauma, but silence and emotional distancing.

The introduction of Coraline’s inquiry about a long-lost father through the WhatShould app is an unexpected jolt, one that undermines the entire architecture of Claudia’s familial understanding.  Similarly, Charles’s breakup with Jessie is revealed to be a self-defensive maneuver rooted in shame, echoing Claudia’s own patterns of withdrawal.

Even Becks, who initially appears emotionally detached, reveals wounds tied to family loss and widowhood.  These familial tensions are neither resolved nor dramatized into melodrama.

Instead, they form a quiet background hum—an emotional climate that shapes every interaction, every hesitation.  Claudia’s professional ability to observe and assess others fails her entirely at home, underscoring the limits of logic and surveillance when applied to personal pain.

The novel suggests that emotional inheritance is not just about shared memories but also about shared coping mechanisms—denial, guilt, and retreat.

Ethics of Identity and Emotional Authenticity

At the heart of the novel lies the ethical dilemma of identity—not just digital, but emotional and moral.  Claudia’s job requires her to impersonate, to lie convincingly, and to navigate ambiguous moral terrain.

Her attraction to Amalia, developed under false pretenses, is both an emotional high point and a moral quagmire.  Claudia lies about having a girlfriend, reads Amalia’s messages without consent, and manipulates encounters—all while convincing herself that her feelings are genuine.

This contradiction forms the crux of the theme: can sincerity exist within deception?  When Claudia and Amalia meet again, and the truth of their surveillance histories becomes clear, their connection shifts from romantic intrigue to existential uncertainty.

Matthew’s confession about Pradeep—rooted in love but ending in violence—mirrors Claudia’s own ethical confusion.  He believed he was protecting Pradeep, but instead enacted irreversible harm.

The same question looms over Veracity’s mission: are they helping people find truth, or merely controlling the narrative?  Claudia’s discomfort grows as she uncovers evidence of synthetic profiles used to shape users’ romantic destinies, sometimes even leading to death.

By the end, when Amalia’s group proposes “freeing” the synths rather than destroying them, Claudia is faced with a new ethical horizon.  The idea that digital beings deserve autonomy reframes the entire discussion around identity.

It’s no longer about whether an emotion is real, but whether it deserves to be recognized.  This shift challenges Claudia’s—and the reader’s—understanding of truth, emotion, and what it means to be human in a digitally mediated world.

Isolation and the Desire for Connection

Throughout The Rivals, Claudia is caught in a paradox of closeness and distance.  Her profession demands emotional detachment, but her heart betrays her repeatedly—first with Amalia, then with Becks, and constantly with her fractured family.

The story builds a portrait of someone who desperately wants intimacy but mistrusts its viability.  Claudia’s reading of mystery novels, her analytical mind, and her reliance on systems like Veracity point to a personality that finds safety in structure, even if it’s lonely.

Yet her repeated actions—reaching out to Becks, interrogating Matthew, revisiting painful family memories—betray a longing for something deeper.  Her emotional life is littered with unfinished conversations and misread signals.

Becks, with her reserved demeanor and surprise disclosures, becomes a symbolic figure of this tension.  Their relationship is full of near-moments: almost-flirtations, unexpected empathy, and unresolved attraction.

The idea of “watching” in the novel, whether through surveillance or in gaming simulations, stands in for this unfulfilled intimacy.  People observe others as stand-ins for connection, hoping that understanding someone’s behavior will bridge emotional distance.

Yet time and again, these observations fall short.  When Claudia realizes the people she’s surveilling might have been watching her too—Amalia and Mason working with a rival group—the power dynamic collapses.

No one is really in control; everyone is guessing, hoping, pretending.  Even technology, with all its predictive sophistication, cannot engineer genuine connection.

In this context, Claudia’s final choice—whether to join the Dream or not—becomes less about sides in a corporate battle and more about deciding how, and whether, she wants to connect in a world where every relationship is a performance.