Almost exclusively, if someone new were coming to the orphanage, it was a kid. Most of the social workers that made contact were familiar, having worked with Father Reilly through the years, greasing the wheels of the system to see that the kids got what they needed. There was only one direction of movement for St. Swithin's... and that direction was 'In'.
More often than not, those arriving had no one else either alive or capable to care for them. Sometimes, there was someone--and that someone was worse than being alone. John spent time with all of them, but the latter group saw more of his attention. They, more than any taking refuge inside the walls of the boys' home, needed to have at least one person they felt they could trust, that would stand up for them. As much a part of the system as he was a product of it, he used his position with the police department to keep a better eye on the building, the kids, and the way in which the city treated them.
John knew he had been lucky--he'd lost his parents at an early age, but he'd had a loving home before that. Even when his father deteriorated, when their apartment ultimately became a place of deadly danger, he had never hurt John, his neglect only born of desperation and pain. Some of the boys he cared for had survived so much more, and John was determined to never allow them to see it again.
As such, he was distrusting, at first, of any new visitors to the building, even if, as was claimed by the man in Fr. Reilly's office that day, they were there to help.
