Sticking the chart back where she found it, Dantalion lowered her mental shields. The boy's mind was a mess of emotions, self-loathing, worry, doubt. She went crawling through some of the memories, discovering that the main source of all that pain seemed to be his father. Who was dead. Then again, that had never stopped her before.
Stripping off the coat left her in normal street clothes, and she drew power into herself to change shape. Taller, older, a more commanding face. Southern accent that dripped with condescension. Time to see how far she could take this.
"It does not surprise me whatsoever that you landed yourself in a place like this," she drawled, looking down her stolen nose at Jayden.