A double helping of pancakes is on the way, in shapes like stars and flowers and rabbits- easy, harmless things that have no real connection to ghosts or the dead. Grace sets the plate in front of Klaus and smooths his hair back, lips brushing against his forehead. A subtle way of checking his temperature among other things- fatigue is easy enough to gauge, anything more? Difficult without knowing how well he'd rested. But it goes without asking that- he likely didn't sleep terribly well.

"Were they loud last night?" The unspoken, unnamed they, the ghosts she's never been able to see that torment her boys.