Watching Dana H. is like listening to a fascinating true-crime podcast, and part of the interest is in the mysteries that adhere to Dana's account, which may be distorted by trauma and time. There are things she can't explain about what happened to her, and at times you wonder what she is leaving out or, perhaps, what Hnath has chosen not to include; wrestling with your response to Dana as a narrator is part of what makes the play so resonant. This is a woman of resilient Christian faith but also a woman with a dark side-she casually mentions having dabbled in Satanism-and a complicated history. (She was 'pretty well prepped' for the physical abuse she suffered at Jim's hands, she says, by the beatings she received as a child.) And she's a survivor, but not completely. By the end of Dana H., you understand why she now works in hospice care, providing final comfort to people on the edge of death. Having been through hell, she carries demons with her still. She's self-possessed.