She pulls her mask down to her throat so that her lips can speak clearly, just this last time, just this small rebellion.
Nana has survived some shit. This, we have always known. It explains her morbidly optimistic outlook, her incredible ability to move forward in the face of adversity, and much of our family’s collective neuroses. But how did she do it?
We are in hiding from a silent, invisible monster.
The world is in hiding, together.