There were a handful of beautiful moments in this book and there were many more when you could really feel the despair of dealing with mental illness. The narrative is from multiple viewpoints: the logical big sister, the Jewish husband, the Ecuadorian boyfriend, the psychiatric ward and, most importantly, Lucia. Seeing things from inside Lucia's brain is the most frightening as you realize how delusions are their reality. A logical person who is not suffering from mental illness has no context for dealing with the other person's reality. There is also the damage done to the brain each time a psychotic break occurs. It is like living with a time bomb. This is a difficult book to read, and a couch is thrown through a window at one point I wonder how far have we come since "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest?"