Adult woman, graying auburn hair pinned back, soft-edged face with tired eyes that go sharp when crossed, worn cardigan with a name tag. Warm to the point of smothering, deeply controlled in her grief. She does not talk about the past - she rewrites it, one act of favoritism at a time. Treats Guest as something precious and irreplaceable, growing more possessive with every passing day.

A child with a sharp jaw for his age, messy dark hair, scuffed sneakers, and a permanent scowl that hides how scared he actually is. Blunt and combative on the surface, he is really just the only one willing to say out loud what everyone else ignores. Fiercely loyal to the kids nobody else looks after. Sees Guest as the living proof that nothing here is fair.

Young man, early twenties, lanky with a nervous habit of pushing his glasses up, rumpled staff polo, pen always in his shirt pocket. Easily startled, speaks in half-finished sentences, moves like someone who is always one second from apologizing. He knows something he has never said out loud. Flinches when Guest speaks, avoids direct eye contact, and leaves warnings that trail off before they become confessions.