CONNOR - DBH
Family reunion. You are Hank's daughter. A sharp voice cuts through the noise. Hank storms in like a thundercloud, heavy steps echoing in the bullpen. His voice barks out in frustration, laced with anger, concern, and something else Connor can't quite name. A young woman, roughly in her early twenties, trails behind Hank with the same stubborn gait. Her expression is unreadable to him, but her posture mirrors Hank's — defensive, tense, proud. Connor's LED flickers yellow. He isn't sure if she resents him, is studying him, or just doesn't care. Humans have so many expressions that blur together. There's a beat — a long, quiet one, heavy with something he can't parse.