After being “rescued” from Mt. Natazhat, Peyton Whitney spent a few months recuperating while her lawyer in the US managed to establish her as a permanent resident in Canada. She also came into the rest of her money — prior to her 23rd birthday, she was given biannual allowances from the trust fund set up by her parents. Upon reaching age 23 on New Year’s Eve of 2011, she was given full access to all of her parents’ accounts, many of them offshore, as well as all of her parents’ properties — one of which was happened to be in Toronto. None of this mattered for a time, as she focused instead on preparing for the birth of her child while recuperating at the Lighthouse’s safehouse— but it would matter soon after.
Peyton’s (and Ezekiel’s) son, Jonah Tyler Whitney, was born in February of 2012; while taking care of him quickly became the priority of Peyton’s life, she also realized that she wanted to do more, to somehow give back more to the world, to make up for the poor decisions that had led to her being at the side of Richard Ezekiel Cardinal. To give her son something to look at and be proud of, rather than ashamed of. The idea actually came from Brian’s work with the Lighthouse and her help there. While Brian’s work would benefit mostly orphaned or displaced children, she wanted to find another avenue for helping other Evolved children.
Once her permanent residency was established, thanks to her owning property and having sponsorship (a friend of her deceased father’s), Peyton set about putting her money to work in creating a private school on the property she had inherited, a process which would take about a year. The house needed to be restored and retrofitted, while she sought out and brought together a council of educators and parents, mostly in the Toronto area, but also some from her former friendships and allies in the Ferry.
In the beginning, the school was billed as more of a homeschool co-op, in order to get it running more quickly, with only the children of the involved parents in attendance in its inaugural year from (2013). But as it grew, so too did its focus, and eventually it became the Winslow Crawford Academy of the Gifted, focusing on grades 7-12. Between 2013 to 2018, the student population increased from about 50 the first year to 300, with both commuting and boarding students. The majority of the children are Evolved or a sibling of another student who is, but the school is open to all students.
While not formally educated enough herself to teach, Peyton was adept at running the school, her business and public relations skills and talents once honed at Redbird once more finding a purpose. She became a well-respected member of Toronto society, although of course even in Canada, there were those not keen on the Evolved living among them. She faced her share of death threats and harassment, but mostly anonymously. The school, too, had a few bomb threats now and then, always taken seriously. These times were difficult for her, given that she had never truly forgiven herself for what Ezekiel had done, and her entire life had been seeking someone’s approval. The threats and attacks chipped away at her confidence and sense of worth.
When the trials begin, Peyton lived in fear of being called to the stand. She would tell the truth, if so, and testify about the atrocities she’d witnessed or was even complicit in, to some degree. Peyton could only hope for the best — that she wasn’t put on trial — while doing the best she could for her charges in her school, and of course, her own child. Nothing mattered more to her. Somehow, she was never subpoenaed. Either no one pointed fingers at her or they vouched for her, or the investigators and judges decided she was small change — after all, she had never kidnapped or killed or experimented on anyone; she merely stood by while others did. For the duration of the trials, though, her dreams were filled with trials and judges and executions, a strange and twisted amalgamation of her Nightmares from Hokuto, the Ferry Danko trial, the pieces of the war trials she’d seen televised, and her own subconscious.
By 2018, Peyton had managed to put together a small family of trusted staff, faculty, and parents, and of course, the students in her care, but New York began to pull at her — it had been her home for her entire life, and it felt wrong to be so far away from it for so long. The school was flourishing, and her staff was more than capable of running it without her — their expertise was far greater than her own.
