Melody narrows her eyes thoughtfully as she studies this rather strange man. He's troubled, certainly, and most definitely in need of help. Just not hers.

"Sorry, honey. Do I look like a charity?" she asks, sighing to herself slightly as she slides off the edge of her desk, going to walk back behind it, to give off the impression that she had better things to do. But as she slides off the desk, she disturbs the file she'd quickly closed a moment before, and a photograph of Grayle's mansion slips out of the papers.