My mother’s family believes in hiding things. Sometimes entire people. I remember when I read in the Guinness Book of World Records about the world’s oldest mother. “What about Nana?” I said. Nana was eighty and had a very young daughter. Someone must have explained to me then that Aunt Dawn wasn’t really a child, she was mentally retarded.
I remember Dawn wobbling cheerfully through my elegant grandmother’s shadowy house. I don’t think she ever left it. When my grandmother became too ill, Dawn was taken away to the state hospital.
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