[ It's always a delicate act, asking children about their stories. Some of them need to be prompted to open up, and others need to be able to come to you on their own time, and assuming the wrong thing can often be disastrous -- the recalcitrant may feel like you're prying too hard, and the reclusive may feel you're simply uninterested.

Which one is Laura? If Charles had to guess, she'd be the latter. There's a reluctance to her right now, in the way she's gripping her seat too hard and in the downturn of her chin. ]

Well, I don't know if my older, balder self told you, but I run a school for children like you. I've heard a lot of stories that aren't happy.

[ It's somewhere between light and sympathetic, a little smile curling at the edge of his lips. ]

But I'd like to hear it whenever you want to tell me. Or you can show me-- [ He taps his temple. ] --whichever you'd prefer.

[ He hesitates, and then beams. ]

For now, what do you say to showing a stuffy old man around? I have absolutely no idea where I am, of course, and I'd appreciate a guide.