"I am Cerise Angelle," she murmured, seeming to shrink into herself.

Donald was just like the rest of the folks who met her, charmed. She was obviously frightened. He reached out and touched her hand in an almost, grandfatherly gesture. "I promise that I am not going to do anything that will hurt you. I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

She seemed to bite her lip, then she said very quietly, "Oui."

"Good. Do you want Mister Carson to stay in the room?" When she glared at the man in question, she still nodded and muttered a resigned, "Oui."

"Do you want him to tell me what he knows, or would you rather tell me? I would like to help but I cannot know until you've told me all that I need to know, do you understand?" She bit her lip, then nodded.

Donald didn't need to read her expression too long before nodding to Sam, "Start with you first, I suppose. Tell me about this young lady first, and then tell me about what brought me here." He was doing this to see if that would help make the young miss more comfortable, he seemed to be picking up on a few things regarding her already. She would definitely be given a card to go see Tristan for psychiatric related things, perhaps, so he considered his good friend would be happy to take the case on regardless.