Finding an adult doesn't sound like a solution, particularly, but she wishes it did, and so she reaches out for the stranger's hand after a tentative moment of looking between their hand, their face, and then the paper with its unreadable squiggle.

Then she holds out her hand so her fingers brush against her new friend's hand, before firmly taking hold.

"Mm," she says, nodding once, "Or anyone who understands the note."

Cursive doesn't mean anything to her, but it sounds like a form of writing, and either way, both of them are ignorant to the number it contained.

"Or why this school's acting... weird."

In fact, even looking now, was the hall getting longer?