Aunt June

Quick Facts

• Role: Lenore’s sister; aunt to Norma (later revealed as Ruthie); keeper and eventual revealer of the family’s central secret
• First appearance: Early in Norma’s childhood, as the “fun,” worldly aunt from Boston
• Key relationships: Norma (Ruthie), Lenore, Alice (best friend and therapist)

Who They Are

Bold, urbane, and deeply conflicted, Aunt June is the warm counterpoint to Lenore’s anxious, insular parenting. She ushers Norma into a larger world—wine, city life, therapy—while shielding her from the volatility at home. Yet June is also the family’s chief strategist of silence: the person most adept at smoothing over questions and stitching together plausible lies. As the one who both comforts Norma and protects Lenore, June personifies the emotional price of keeping Secrets and Lies—until the cost becomes unbearable.

Personality & Traits

June’s personality shines through ease and competence: she is the “career woman” who reads the room, deflects danger with a joke or a factoid, and cares for Norma with uncomplicated affection. Underneath that poise, however, lies a long habit of triage—prioritizing immediate safety and Lenore’s fragile stability over moral clarity—until honesty becomes the only expression of love left.

• Supportive, affectionate caregiver: The sole steady source of warmth in Norma’s childhood, June nicknames her “Poopkin” and reframes Lenore’s erratic behavior as love shaped by trauma, giving Norma language to cope rather than to fear.
• Worldly and pragmatic: A Boston-based “career woman,” she urges therapy, rolls her eyes at pretense, and punctures Lenore’s affectations as “pretentious,” signaling a modern sensibility rooted in problem-solving, not performance.
• Protective above all: She buffers Norma from Lenore’s anxiety and shields Lenore from consequences, even removing incriminating photos to preserve the family narrative.
• Expert deflector: At the protest, she invents instant “genetics” explanations (earlobes, resemblance) and hustles Norma away when Ben calls “Ruthie,” revealing practiced agility with quick, credible lies.
• Body bearing the burden: Later descriptions—crooked back, wrinkled hand, slouched shoulders—externalize decades of secrecy; her “deflated” posture at confession is the body’s confession before the mouth’s.

Character Journey

June’s arc moves from accomplice to confessor, from the aunt who makes life bearable to the woman who admits why it was so confined. Early on, she is sanctuary: the adult who can translate Lenore’s moods into “love” and introduce Norma to independence. As Norma’s questions sharpen, June becomes the lie’s steward—hiding photographs, redirecting curiosity, improvising cover stories. The death of Norma’s father, followed by Lenore’s cognitive decline, collapses June’s protective system; when Lenore’s muddled recollections edge toward the truth, June sees the lie is no longer sustainable or kind. She finally drives Norma to the roadside where she was taken and tells her everything, transforming from keeper to guide. Her path traces the motion from complicity to confession—the difficult arc of Guilt and Atonement—and culminates in a promise: to help Norma become Ruthie again.

Key Relationships

• Norma (Ruthie): June is more maternal than Lenore—playful, validating, and honest about feelings, if not about facts. Their bond fractures at the revelation, but June’s full confession, humility, and concrete help allow Norma to pivot from a life narrated by others to a self reclaimed as Ruthie.
• Lenore: A knot of love, frustration, and loyalty binds the sisters, shaped by early loss and Lenore’s fragile mental health. June disapproves of the kidnapping and the suffocating home it produces, yet protects Lenore with ferocity—proof that love can rationalize harm even as it seeks to prevent it.
• Alice: June trusts Alice enough to steer Norma toward therapy but withholds the core truth, calling Norma “adopted.” Lying to her closest friend underscores how thoroughly June’s identity is organized around maintaining the secret.

Defining Moments

June’s most telling actions are the small, decisive choices that tighten or loosen the cord of secrecy around Norma’s life.

• The protest in Boston: When Ben shouts “Ruthie!,” June crushes Norma’s fingers and drags her away. Why it matters: Her instinctive panic exposes the secret’s magnitude and shows how quickly protection curdles into control.
• Sneaking the hat box of photos: After Norma’s father dies, June removes the images that would contradict the family’s fire story. Why it matters: It’s evidence of long-term, deliberate deception—carefully curating memory to keep the lie intact.
• The confession on Route 9: June takes Norma to the place she was taken and, after Norma’s demand, nods to confirm the kidnapping. Why it matters: Location becomes witness; returning to the scene turns truth from abstraction into an embodied reckoning.
• The promise to help: June finds the article about Charlie’s death and commits to helping Norma locate her birth family. Why it matters: She shifts from guarding the past to building a future, translating remorse into reparative action.

Essential Quotes

“She wasn’t always this way, Poopkin. When she was a kid, you couldn’t shut her up if you wanted to... Remember she does everything she does out of love. Misguided maybe, but full up to the top with love. You remember that, Poopkin.”

June reframes Lenore’s volatility as love, training Norma to read harm as care—a survival strategy that also normalizes dysfunction. The nickname “Poopkin” confirms June’s role as comforter, even as she softens truths that demand accountability.

“I kinda hoped I would die before I had to tell you this.”

A confession of fear, not malice: June admits that avoidance felt easier than truth. The line distills decades of moral exhaustion and reveals how love, guilt, and cowardice can coexist in the same heart.

“She was my sister and I loved her. I loved her enough to make sure that she was happy. Were there consequences? Yes. She became obsessive, scared they would find you and take you away.”

Here June articulates the logic of her complicity: love as justification. She also names the fallout—Lenore’s obsession—acknowledging that protection reinforced the very paranoia that harmed Norma.

“I’ll tell you everything I know, and I’ll help you find your family. Just promise that I will still be your family. You’re all I’ve got.”

This plea fuses atonement with need. June offers transparency and labor, but also asks for continued belonging, revealing the vulnerability beneath her authority and the relational stakes of telling the truth.