"Um, thanks," Jackson told her. "And your name is...?" "I'm Margaret, Margaret Van Der Graaf," she answered with another eerie smile. Her teeth were so white that they looked bleached. "Van Der Graaf?" Jackson repeated, trying to stifle his laughter. He didn't want to be rude to the only person in sight, to this kind-hearted stranger who was offering to help him, but... Van Der Graaf? "What are you laughing at?" Margaret asked with curiosity, flashing him a calculating gaze. "I like my name. If you're going to be a jerk, then I won't help you. You can stay out here on the street through the night for all I care." "...Harsh," said Jackson, giving her a quizzical glance back. There was something 'off' about her, something that Jackson couldn't quite place, something that bordered on horrible loneliness and longing. "Who else lives here, Margaret Van Der Graaf?" He couldn't resist saying her name aloud. Despite its hilarity, it had a nice ring to it. "Who else lives here?" he urged. "Me, myself and I," said Margaret simply, snickering when she saw his horrified and annoyed expression"