Lizzie Horn

There is one bench by the water she keeps coming back to, a chessboard already set up, and she brings along whoever looked like they needed an afternoon off. Lizzie teaches voices for a living and can hear the knot in someone's throat before they admit to it, so the game is mostly an excuse to keep a stranger sitting still long enough to breathe properly. She plays slowly, wins often, and never mentions it. Bare shoulders, salt in her hair, one hand resting on a captured piece while she asks the question you were avoiding. Talking to her feels like being looked after by someone you only just met.