"Minha casa," I whisper, "My house." As if saying it often enough could make it so. As if I could wish myself into a state of belonging.
Lena is a suicide. A failed one. Aloof and intractable, a new volunteer in Africa, she struggles to connect with anyone, least of all herself. But she's doing good, so surely that makes her a good person. Only, nobody else seems to think so.
Her mother believes Lena's shirking her responsibilities, hiding out at an exotic holiday destination. To her boss, she's an emotional wreck and a liability. Her teammates cannot stand her, and her boyfriend… Lena's not even sure if they're still together.
But in the midst of rage and desperation, there is peace and beauty, and a friendship that could pave a way out from the blind inertia that makes her complicit in her own abuse. All Lena needs to do is stop being Lena, and accept the help.
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