About “His & Hers” in a few words:

His & Hers is a six-episode mystery thriller on Netflix, adapted from Alice Feeney’s bestselling novel. It follows Anna, a former news anchor, and her estranged husband Jack, a detective, as they get sucked back into each other’s lives while investigating a brutal murder in Anna’s sleepy hometown of Dahlonega, Georgia. Twists, old friendships, buried trauma, and shady pasts make this one of those can’t-look-away stories.

Meet the characters from His & Hers

Anna

Anna is the kind of character you want in your corner and also slightly terrified of because she’s quietly intense — like a storm in a teacup. She’s fiercely loyal, borderline obsessive about fairness, and will memorize tiny details nobody else notices (also she loses her keys three times a week, which is adorable and infuriating). Anna plays the mediator role but honestly steals scenes whenever she speaks; she’s surprisingly sharp with one-liners and then immediately apologizes for being blunt. There’s a soft, almost stubborn optimism in her that keeps dragging everyone forward, even when she pretends not to care.

Jack Harper

Jack’s the messy-hero type who looks like he never sleeps but somehow always has a plan — sometimes a terrible plan, sometimes the only plan. He’s brave and a little reckless, with that tired sarcasm that makes you laugh even when things are falling apart, and he’s definitely haunted by something, in a good brooding way. He leads when forced and grumbles about responsibility while secretly being the glue; also he hoards notebooks like a squirrel hoards nuts, which makes no sense but I love it. There’s warmth under the gruffness, and he’ll surprise you by remembering your birthday or fixing your sink at 2 a.m., though he’d deny both with dramatic indignation.

Richard

Richard is older, somehow both grumpy and impossibly charming, like a walking antique store with a soft heart tucked behind the dusty shelves. He’s pragmatic to a fault, the kind who’ll give cutting advice and then make you tea because he can’t help himself — please forgive the contradiction, it’s him. He often fills the role of unofficial mentor, dropping life-lessons in half-jokes and obscure metaphors about carpentry or jazz (neither of which he admits he loves loudly). He has weird little rituals — always two biscuits with his tea, never matching socks — that make him impossibly human and endearing.

Zoe

Zoe bursts into a room and you just know she’s trouble in the best possible way; bright, impulsive, and brilliant at improvisation, she makes chaos look curated. She’s creative to the point of distraction, flinging ideas around like confetti and sometimes forgetting the practical bits, like paying rent, which she solves with a flurry of charm and a slightly illegal idea. Zoe is fiercely independent but she notices the tiny hurts and stitches people back together with ridiculous movie references and an encyclopedia of useless trivia. She’s loud when she’s happy, quiet when she’s worried, and owns three jackets she insists are the same but they are totally different — personal fashion mystery.

Rachel

Rachel is the sophisticated wildcard — poised on the surface, but there’s a relentless curiosity that makes her dangerous and delightful in equal measure. She’s career-driven and precise, yes, but she also has this guilty-pleasure streak (soap operas? competitive knitting? I can’t decide) that humanizes her like who even does that, right? She’s the strategist, the one mapping ten moves ahead, yet somehow she’ll drop everything for a midnight road trip because of one good playlist and a dare. You trust her with secrets and also with your weird aunt’s cat, and she’ll manage both with slightly exasperated competence and a smile that says she already planned an escape route.