“What did she mention?” he asked Lauren next, leaning forward. “Strangers, family matters, silly worries? She gets these notions sometimes.” He smiled reassuringly, as if sharing a family quirk, eyes keen beneath the warmth, drawing out details like thread from cloth.
Lauren recounted bits lightly—gardens, her brother, vague talk of papers. Charles nodded, exhaling. “That sounds like her. Fragile state these days, bless her.” Each small confusion she shared, he reframed softly, turning fog into proof of Mabel’s need for his steady hand.