Lynn twitches at the sound of someone shouting her name, touching one of her knives and turning to see who exactly is calling her name -

- a child?

She leaves the knife in her jacket pocket. What do you want? she plans to say, but quickly finds that she has more pressing concerns in the form of a clingy thirteen year old. There is exactly one thing that Lynn can do with a panicked teenager.

She wraps her arms around the girl, gently.

"Shh," she soothes. "It's okay. Slow down, I'll help. 'They'?"