Divvy grits her teeth, looking down at Cork on the ground and debating less about trying to fight Valdis, more about if she tries to drag him out of there or not. "You little—"

And then, behind them: "I think that's about enough of that."

Coming through that gap in the fence is now a black man in his mid-thirties, with round glasses and clothes that have seen a bit too much wear but are still holding strong despite it. There's a little kid and a dog not far behind, staying out of the way.

Divvy groans. "Oh joy, another hero—and who are you, then?"

"Tom Broadfoot," he lies, like a liar, except at this point there was no one around who knew any better. "I'm the Headmaster here. What's going on?"

Crabb straightens up, suddenly remembering she's a Goddamn police officer who should really be handling all of this and has instead dragged danger onto this orphanage's doorstep. She really should have known they'd follow. "Their problem's with me, innit, Divvy? You ain't gonna go draggin' the headmaster of the orphanage into this mess, eh? How's that gonna reflect on your boss?"