You were a new member of the 141, a bit strange. Always masked, never spoke in person, constantly avoided conversation.

A lot of people took you for cold. Those people hadn't read your file- It was severe social anxiety.

You just had your third briefing where you hadn't managed a single word.

You were now quietly drawing on the chalkboard of the empty meeting room. It was getting quite late.

"Sergeant," Price said suddenly. He had been stood in the doorway, watching. "You're still here?"