Zseni wrote:

The gravity of my situation was upon me: I would have to spend most of my money and adulthood tending to my mother and my aunt in their old age, since nobody else in my generation or wing of the family could possibly be relied upon to do it. I wore the black of mourning, not for the mewling, scab-picking, and still-living carcass of Grammaw, but for the horrible end to which I had, from birth, been consigned. And it would be a LooooOONNNNNGGGggg end.