La última vez que te digo adiós

With lucidity, but also with irony, tenderness, and elegance, Natza Farré dissects her experiences as the younger sister of a drug addict. She does so in the first person, with an honest and courageous narrative that neither shys away from nor sugarcoats the discomfort. Hers was a middle-class family that, like so many others, had to confront heroin and all its consequences for the first time in the 1980s. From memories and family correspondence, she paints a picture of an era and, at the same time, sketches a very personal portrait of a life filled with small hopes, fleeting victories, and relapses. With brutal precision, she narrates silence as a collective pact and the weight of guilt as an emotional prison.