Fiddling with her pendent for a moment, Alice hesitates answering. At eighteen, she would have figured she would have hit the ground running -- have a job, a good place to live and neither of those things are happening. Swallowing, Alice nods, finding it difficult to look at her.

She doesn't want to say she's in specific housing for people like her, right out of the loony bin.

"I am," She clears her throat, "I.. I was looking to be closer to people like me."