Sloane didn’t talk much. She only spoke when she needed too…otherwise she’d bottle up her words and let them internally settle within her bones, waiting for a time when they could be released.

She hated social events, hating the fact she’d have to hear her own voice and move her lips. Sloane always tired when she had to speak. The mere energy of articulation and tone stole the breath from her lungs and demanded a midday nap.

But she knew she’d never fully be able to escape being social…not if she didn’t want to forever me alone.