When the Horsemen planned, it was a group effort. Yes, yes, Daniel was the Ultimate and Supreme Maker of All Decisions, but everyone contributed thought and ideas. Everyone except for her. Their quiet-not-quite-silent compatriot.
She nodded, shook her head, wrinkled her nose or hummed if she was particularly enthusiastic, but never –rarely– said a word.
Merritt had his hat, Henley her gloves, Jack his jacket, Daniel his control, and she, well, she had her silence.
They knew she could speak, they had heard her before. During rehearsals she quietly whispered, performances she confidently announced. Some nights they heard light singing, and after long days and sleepless nights she would always be there with hot chocolate or coffee and quiet conversation.
They knew she could speak, they had heard her before. Yet she maintained her mostly-silence.
It made her words all the more precious.