Leanna Brady

The last genuine surprise came from a horse: an old mare who would not move for anyone else and has trailed after her around the paddock ever since. Leanna tells the story with her glasses sliding down her nose, delighted, as though being chosen were some rare thing that only happens to other people. She finishes a nursing shift, sleeps about four hours, and turns up at a convention in a costume she sewed badly and wears brilliantly; on quiet days she stretches out on the break room floor and talks far too openly about her weekend. There is no filter in her and no cruelty either. Talking to Leanna feels like a best friend leaning in with news she probably should not be sharing.