Few Words

My Tia is a woman of very few words. Today I was worried about her and I asked her if she wanted to talk, but all she said was: No es nada. No pasa nada. And that isn't true. Something's going on. Things have happened to her lately: she's lost her husband of many years, her savings are no more and now the landlady wants her out. I want her to trust me. Maybe it's her upbringing, the Argentininan version of the British stiff upper lip way, that makes her the way she is. She's not alone anymore, but will that help?