“You’re in trauma,” I say to her, and swallow heavily because who the fuck wants to say that to their mother? “You’re in so much pain, you can’t even feel it all. It’s why you feel confused—confused is the most obvious thing you feel.” I point to her upper face. “The way your eyebrows pull in, you’re confused on the surface, but underneath, it’s just…” I tilt my head—it’s easier sometimes to spot emotions that way. “Anguish. And fear.”
