What alarms me most about Sabrina are the smiles. Writer/artist Nick Drnaso has a curious tendency to render his characters’ simple faces with the line for their lips curled into an ever-so-slight curve. When the narrative documents the numbing routines of its engrossingly mundane characters, the dumb grins feel entirely appropriate. But when matters take a turn for the horrifying, those selfsame minute smiles become entirely incongruous, making you question the nature of Drnaso’s visual reality: Are we misinterpreting the visual signals of a curved line? Is the artist positing that a curved line can mean something hideous? Such questions are entirely in line with the existential brutality of Sabrina, which documents a handful of unassuming people who are abruptly thrown into our present-day whirlwind of fake news, conspiracy theorizing, and tragic popular delusion. But though matters spin out into chaos within the story, Drnaso’s storytelling and draughtsmanship are master classes in total control, carefully drawing us in and gradually dismantling our subconscious assumption that bad things don’t happen to good people.