He wants to trust her more than almost anything right about now. Definitely more than anything else within his grasp, anyway. No kid wants to be alone, and James is able to recognize this in himself, the loneliness that makes him want to reach out for all of the adults who walk by, even if he doesn't. He doesn't, because he can't be that little boy anymore, always looking for comfort from adults, comfort that might get ripped out right from under him. Instead, his gaze lingers on the hand that rest on his shoulder, pausing. Maybe he just has to lie this time. Maybe that's the only way out.

So he does. "Okay," he lies, even though he know that he won't reach out to no one, not if Mr. Sawyer comes back.

But he does allow himself another look, green eyes flickering up to meet hers. "What's your name?"