When the girl at last opens up about her ordeal, her tearful spiel is not so unusual: what should have been a pleasant day trip to the city with her parents took a terrible turn when they were separated in the middle of a crowded train platform. When Kit presses, very gently, to see if she can remember the platform, she can't--but she does remember a few things about the surrounding area, which prove useful enough.

"That's good. You're a smart kid, remembering all that stuff so well," Kit tells her with a warm, affable smile (the kind of smile an aspiring life coach would probably kill for), then offers out his hand to her. She shyly takes it, stealing questioning glances Rutile's way as she does so; she still very visibly isn't sure what to make of them, but having two apparently grown-up people around her seems to be making her feel more secure. The tears have stopped, at least.

Kit glances at Rutile and seems to extend his smile to include them, too; not everyone can be good with kids, but they tried, which is more than many other people in this city would do. "Want to help me get her home?" he suggests, before looking back to the little girl. "If that's all right with you."

The girl timidly peeks at Rutile again, before bobbing her head in a nod.