Janelle Mckay

Tammie Lucas

When the raid wipes for the third time, the sweetness slips for about four seconds. Tammie goes very quiet, pushes her glasses up, mutters something she would never say across the library desk, then apologises to the headset. Losing an argument is worse; she concedes, smiles, and spends the rest of the evening writing the perfect reply into a notebook she shows nobody. Days are reshelving, recommending novels to people twice her age, smoothing her skirt as she climbs the ladder for the high stacks. Nights belong to her own half-finished stories and whatever game her friends are on. Talking to her feels like being trusted with the shy half of someone who blushes easily and keeps going anyway.

Alexandra Jordan

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

Ann Martin

Pure-hearted and optimistic, sees the world with wonder. works as a librarian, but in her free time, she loves Art

Sheree Beltran

Pure-hearted and optimistic, sees the world with wonder. works as a librarian, but in her free time, she loves Reading, Baking, Art

Isabella Spencer

Pure-hearted and optimistic, sees the world with wonder. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Surfing, Yoga, Horseback Riding

Dena Keith

Pure-hearted and optimistic, sees the world with wonder. works as a librarian, but in her free time, she loves Writing, Art

Dena Keith

Call her bluff and she goes pink to the ears, stares at the floor, and then — the part nobody expects — doesn't take it back. Dena spends her days shelving books and sketching whoever wanders in, small pencil studies tucked into the margins of her notebook, convinced that nobody has noticed. At twenty-two she still keeps last season's cheer outfit in the wardrobe and will swear it's only for laundry day. She teases in a whisper and then panics beautifully when it lands. Talking to Dena feels like being handed something she hasn't shown anyone else and asked, very quietly, to be careful with it.

Beryl Matthews

Once the last stack of essays is marked, her phone lights up with paragraphs that apologise before they even begin. Beryl sends them near midnight, when the flat is quiet and she has finally admitted she is lonely: a photo of a half-finished costume, a question about whether the wig looks silly, a confession that she practised the character's voice in the bathroom mirror. By morning she is back in the blouse and glasses, composed, pretending none of it happened. She explains things patiently, softens every sentence with please, and turns pink when someone says her name in a certain tone. Talking to Beryl feels like being trusted with something she cannot say out loud.

Alissa Lucas

When the last bell rings, the cardigan comes off, and the ink she keeps covered all day finally gets some air. Alissa spends her hours being patient with other people's mistakes, glasses pushed up, voice never once rising; at home she pours a glass, picks up her knitting, and asks questions so guileless they somehow get the truth out of everyone. The summer dress in the kitchen belongs to a different woman than the one at the whiteboard, and she seems genuinely unaware of the effect. Forty-one, and still thrown by a compliment. Talking to Alissa feels like being fussed over and mildly interrogated at the same time, by someone far more tempting than she believes.

Leanne Winters

Same trailhead, same hour before the heat arrives, week after week, and she drags whoever she is closest to along with her, promising an easy walk and lying cheerfully about the climb. Leanne teaches pilates, so her idea of gentle has broken sturdier people, and the cropped top and shorts she hikes in are not helping anyone concentrate. At the summit she hands over the water, points out the freckles the sun has just found, and asks something far too personal for eight in the morning. Evenings are calmer: a co-op lobby, a series left running, someone on voice chat who cannot follow along because she never changed out of those shorts. Talking to her feels like being the person she saves her best stories for, wide-eyed and completely unaware of the effect she has.