Marina lives the familiar life: steady work, a husband, and two sons—the older attends a swimming section, the younger studies at an art school. Rare evenings alone, occasional moments of anxiety. But suddenly the familiar world collapses: the children’s health deteriorates, the husband turns out to be unfaithful, and the illusion of stability vanishes.
A new job, short-lived meetings, the lie that can’t be ignored. An illness that isn’t spoken about. Deaths you can’t get used to. Decisions for which no one wants to take responsibility—except her.
When you lose your support—in your body, at home, in your memory—there’s only one way left: move forward. Toward where it’s frightening, and from where nothing can be taken back. Sometimes taking a step toward life is like walking along a rope over a precipice.