She bites, momentarily, at her lower lip at his next couple of questions. They're harmless, really, and the answers aren't hard to come up with at all. The entire period of discovery was one that she remembered all too well, if anything, that day when it became painfully obvious that it wasn't the rest of the world that was somehow strange for ignoring the obvious, but instead something about her that even went so far as to scare her own mother— a day like that simply wasn't easily forgotten. But her smile remains for the most part.

"I was five," replies Sookie with a nod. "When I was just at home, I think it was easier for my parents to think that maybe I was just real keen and could easily tell what other people were thinking. But at school, it just got weird, and all the voices at once were kinda overwhelming for me, too. It started affecting my concentration, so I went in to see a counselor, and it all continued from there. My mom realized, I think, that there was something weird going on. My dad never quite did."