From what Ellen had told Mayra prior to leaving, Mayra knew James was a fussy one, but that he didn’t entirely hate how he was being treated. Though he had retreated to the basement for an hour or so, Mayra smiled as she sat in Ellen’s easy chair, a book in her lap. She marked the page and closed it softly, placing the time-occupier on a nearby table as she looked at James, peeking out to see if Mayra was still there. “Hola, pequeño,” Mayra cooed softly, but not making any attempt to approach him. “Is your tummy all kinds of rumbly?”