"I hate to admit it, but I probably woulda loved goin' here as a kid," he says. "Then again, the staff probably woulda hated me. Wasn't exactly a joiner."

He leans on the door jam, crossing his arms and watching her, glancing around nice, but sparse room. It's nothing like the homey way she'd decorated her room on Muir, and it speaks to her comfort level.

Or to how much she's changed. He's not sure which.

"That's up to you, Pryde," he tells her. "However long you wanna stay is fine by me."