“James,” she tried, then rushed on. “Claude. Bram.”

Wait. Was Bram even hers? No! … Probably not! Thank the Lord!

“Bram,” she buckled down on, for it meant he was not her problem. “You’ve gotten so tall! You look ...” blurry “so much like your mother!”

Shit, wait, his mother was dead. Her smile faltered into a cringe of her own.