“You must be Ms. West, I presume?” Eleanore smiled. She was rarely called that. 

“Yes,” She held out her hand and played her part. Her hand warm like the rest of her was slowly getting uncomfortable. She didn’t want to invite the Porter’s inside, though.

Mr. Porter took her offered hand. He gave it a quick, business-like shake, his grip firm and still a bit chilled from the car’s air conditioning.

“I am happy you’ve brought the young Mr. Porter to us.” She spoke like Lundy would have if she had still been alive. Eleanore’s mind wandered to the shady grove on the hill. 

“Of course,” Mrs. Porter repeated, her gaze on the front door as if still trying to see Ryker. She looked back to Eleanor and took a breath. “You should know. Ryker went missing about three years ago. We only just got him back, but…”

“But he’s different,” Mr. Porter finished for his wife. “Defiant. He’s had difficulties re-adjusting, and can’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality.” He frowned, his mustache accenting the action. “He thinks he came from [i]Neverland,[/i]” he added with a disapproving shake of his head.

“We can’t imagine what he’s been through to concoct such a delusion.” Mrs. Porter sighed sadly, worry glistening in her eyes. “But he refuses to listen to reason. He won’t talk about what [i]really[/i] happened. We just don’t know what else to do for him. Then his therapist suggested this place.” She gestured to the house. “Do you think you can help him?”

Eleanor nodded along as they spoke their fears. It was the same story as every other parent told her. The same worries, the same changes. The Porters wanted their baby back, and he was here, physically, but he would never be who they remembered. She hoped Alexander had done his job and gotten Ryker out of earshot. It was bad enough that he saw her dressed like she was, dying in the heat, but to protect the children it was worth it. “We specialize in cases just like him. This is a rare but not unique disorder that manifests in young children just as they are reaching adulthood. It is a delusion and with some time away it may help cure it. It is not your fault.” Her speech was practiced and played upon those very fears the Porters carried. Best though, they wanted to help their son, and so did Eleanore. It was simply that they had very different ideas of how to help him.

“A disorder.” Mrs. Porter nodded slowly in acceptance at the false explanation. “I trust we’ll receive progress reports throughout his stay? And of course, we’ll expect to collect him for the major holidays.”

Beside her, Mr. Porter checked his watch. His frown deepened. He glanced behind him toward the car, then returned his attention to Eleanore, his mustache twitching with growing impatience.

“Of course.” Eleanore gave Mrs. Porter the necessary reassurances. “Though if you don’t mind now I’d like to get started with orientation for young Mr. Porter.” She offered another handshake and watched the pair climb into their car and drive off. Once they were clear of the gate she stepped inside and dropped the logic as the shawl and coat came off. She sighed relieved it was over. Then started up the stairs. She had several new students, the most she had seen come in at one time ever. As she climbed the stairs she narrated and hoped that the brief glimpse Ryker had had of her wouldn’t break his trust in her.