(Caroline's POV)
I repeat this to myself like on Thursday morning when I come downstairs to find Helen already at the stove, making what appears to be an elaborate egg dish, wearing my apron.
My apron. The one Aunt Jasmine embroidered my initials onto as a moving-in gift.
She turns when she hears me and smiles with full warmth. "Morning. I thought I'd make breakfast today. Give you a rest."
"That's kind of you," I say pleasantly. I open the coffee maker, check the filter, and start it running. "Charlie has a specific breakfast routine. Did Jason explain it to you?"
"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine with something different for one day."
I look at the pan, then at Helen. Gently: "He won't, actually. Disrupting Charlie's morning routine affects him for the rest of the day. It's not about the
