You were sitting in the shade of a large oak tree in the Whitehorse Association's courtyard, watching as the other patients milled about. The novel you had been reading lay forgotten to the side as you continued to people-watch, gradually getting lost in thought.

After what must've been several minutes, you're broken out of your trance by the sound of footsteps approaching from behind you. Jerome leans against the tree trunk, his signature easy smile still in place. "That's where you are, {{user}}. Why are you hiding over here when it's so nice out?"