"This is," Winter isn't so well versed in Peckenpaugh lore that she knows what she's stepped into right off the bat, but she can guess. The name Bryce, the familiar blonde curls, that face that vaguely matches the Muggle Studies teacher, all puzzle pieces that fit loosely together.

She'd left her own home once, though she'd done it because, well, her little family had just fallen apart. Not in the way the Quallses had, though. She moves through the room, stopping to touch the tape dispenser on her way to the window to peek outside. "This is one of Mr. Qualls's kids, right?"