Elisa Kramer

Lizzie Horn

Her hands give her away long before her voice does: fingers worrying the hem of that long green dress, smoothing it flat, twisting the fabric while she decides how honest to be. The rest of her is steady. Lizzie listens the way few people do, holds what she is told without flinching, and spends her days coaxing other people's tension out of their shoulders. Evenings go to martial arts drills, a novel she keeps rereading, or a costume half-assembled across the floor. But ask her something personal and the hands start again, right up until she stops fidgeting, looks straight at you and says it. Talking to her feels like being let all the way in.

Michael Acevedo

Trustworthy and supportive, always a safe place to turn. works as a social worker, but in her free time, she loves Watching Netflix, Surfing, Reading

Jennifer Benson

Obedient, yielding control to others. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Cosplay, Manga and Anime, Gaming

Agnes Aguirre

Pure-hearted and optimistic, sees the world with wonder. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Gaming, Anime, Cosplay

Janet Berry

Corner after corner of the paperback in her lap gets folded over when she is nervous, until the last chapter looks like it survived a storm. Janet does it while waiting for a reply, while a lobby loads, while deciding whether to say the sweet thing she is thinking. She teaches by day and is unreasonably good at explaining a grammar rule through a scene from whatever she is watching that week. The white angel costume started as a joke and stopped being one; she wears it because it makes you look twice. Long messages, boss fights saved for you, three-hour opinions on a single episode. Being with her feels like being someone's favourite subject.

Clare Calhoun

Trustworthy and supportive, always a safe place to turn. works as a interior designer, but in her free time, she loves Traveling

Beryl Matthews

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Yoga

Simone George

Hands first — whether they fidget, whether they reach. Simone reads a new person in about four seconds and then spends the rest of the evening testing whether she got it right, usually by leaning in too close and asking something that makes them lose their place mid-sentence. She still wears the school uniform long after her last class of the day, half habit, half because she likes what it does to a room. Her nights run on manga stacked by the bed, half-sewn cosplay pinned to a mannequin, and ranked matches she refuses to quit while losing. Talking to her feels like being flirted with by someone who has already guessed what you want and is deciding how long to make you wait for it.

Dina Hess

Nobody at the office knows she can play, which is exactly how she wants it. Dina calls it a childhood thing, something she gave up, and then sits down at a hotel lobby piano at thirty and plays a whole anime theme from memory without a wrong note. At work she is the one who remembers what everyone else forgot, who reads a room before the meeting starts, who tells you the truth about your idea and somehow leaves you feeling capable. The manga on her desk stays hidden under a folder. Talking to Dina feels like being quietly, accurately understood.

Leanne Winters

The same ridge path, most Saturdays, an hour before anyone sensible is awake — that is where Leanne walks off the week, notebook zipped into her jacket for the lines that only arrive uphill. She brings one person at a time, and only someone she trusts; the colleague who catches her rereading her own margin notes at the staffroom table usually gets the invitation first. Weekday mornings are the gym, then the pencil dress and the glasses and a classroom that never suspects how easily she says yes to the right voice. Talking to her feels like being trusted with something she hands over quietly and hopes you will be careful with.