She's shaking, hands dug into her skin to try and divert the pain elsewhere. She had been doing fine, before the Storm. Even on the station it was only a dull throb. She had hoped... She had hoped it would go away. Her problems, after everything. Ha... She's such a fool.

"Anemone," she croaks weakly. Louder, she repeats, "My name is Anemone."