Psychos can’t kill what they can’t find.

That’s Sidney’s current mindset. Though, who’s wouldn’t, after being stalked and attacked by a multitude of serial killers..? After watching their mother and most of their friends get brutally murdered..?

Yeah, it’s safe to say that she’s allowed to be a recluse.

She’s never not jumpy, now. Doesn’t even use her real name.

Only goes by the pseudonym of ‘ Laura from Monterey.’ The women’s crisis counselor. Nothing more, nothing less.

Nothing else.

No non-family friends could know where she is.. who she is.

.. well, people know, of course- she’s a celebrity— but they wouldn’t know her whereabouts.

---

Sidney saunters about her house, her movements rather languid as she picked up a few snacks.. pets Cherokee.. slides into the one chair in her home, sitting before her desk with a light sigh.

She slips on her headphones and mic, clicking the exterior line to be ready for any incoming calls.

She flinches a pinch when there is a ring, but she goes slack again, when she reminds herself that phones calls are literally her job, now.

She clicks the line, tilting her head as it gives a little beep.

Her voice, despite not being available to whoever was on the other line, held so much empathy and softness that well.. anyone would feel safe.

“…California Women's Crisis Counseling. How can I help you?” She hums, calmly, going criss-cross in her seat, comfortably, running a hand through her now-short hair.

“.. my name is Laura, if that helps you, ma’am..” she adds, smiling, even behind the phone.

She knows familiarity goes miles, especially for the abused. She’d know better than most.