Yvette gazed at Jordan with a soft, loving look, like she saw someone else through him.
"Mrs. Osborne?" Debra called out.
Yvette snapped her out of it, turning back to Debra and Marion. "Sorry, I zoned out. Sit here. I'll grab some snacks."
She headed to the kitchen and rummaged in the fridge.
Debra glanced at Jordan, her mind snagging on Yvette's half-said word. This wasn't the first time Yvette had mistaken Marion for someone else.
"I'm thrilled to have you guys here today," Yvette said, setting out the snacks.
Then she slid a gingerbread cookie in front of Jordan.
Debra stared at the kid-friendly treat, thrown off.
"You never liked sweets as a kid," Yvette said, holding Marion's hand. "So, I kept some unsweetened stuff just for you."
Marion eyed the plain shortbread on his plate. Jordan jumped in, "Aunt Yvette, you got it mixed up. I'm the shortbread guy."
"Oh, you," Yvette laughed. "I know what you like. Didn't you always love my homemade tacos?"
She turned to Debra. "I know you're big on sugar cookies, so I keep them stocked. Try one."
"What about Andrew? How's he doing?"
Yvette grabbed the maid's arm, panic breaking through her face. "How's Andrew? His legs. How is he holding up?"
She stumbled toward Jordan. "He's so smart. How can he make it without his legs? Hide. I'll keep you safe. Run."
"Aunt Yvette," Jordan cut her off, worried Debra might hear more. "Help her back to her room."
"Andrew and Jordan are both good kids," she murmured, breaking down.
Once the maid took her upstairs and came back down. "Sorry about that. Mrs. Osborne gets emotional like this sometimes. Mr. Osborne usually keeps her away from people."

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