All right, on second thought, maybe Graham wasn't really all that "out there," Emmy Kate decided as she slathered some jelly onto the other piece of bread she'd laid out. He was very much a gentleman who just kept to himself most of the time. People simply haven't had the chance to get to know him very well, not like Emmy Kate made a point to. She planted the slice of bread onto the other, the peanut butter creating a nice vacuum keeping the jelly tucked inside. There. That looked all right.
Emmy Kate helped herself to a dollop of peanut butter right out of the jar, then, and scraped it off absent-mindedly as she turned around in place to observe the kitchen. She really had no idea how her mother had managed to put all of it together, even though the red walls and kitchen area had been part of the conference room their home used to be. It felt like the interior decorating fairy just showed up one night, waved her magic wand, and poof, insta-Martha-Stewart-approved kitchen and living area. She snorted at this, and took further advantage of being home alone. Without anyone to reprimand her for being un-ladylike, Emmy Kate could eat all the peanut butter out of the jar she wanted, and snort loudly if she felt like it.
But then she heard a quiet thud against the door, bringing her back to the current Graham situation. Emmy Kate left the knife by the sink and hurried towards the door. She'd left it purposefully unlocked so Graham wouldn't have too much trouble getting in, but had apparently misjudged his condition even more than initially thought. She peeked out of the door way and found Graham sitting on the carpet in front of their door, hands in his lap, and head dropped onto his chest.
It was rather sad seeing him like this, Emmy Kate smiled wanly before crouching to the ground to make eye contact with him. "You found me," she said warmly. "Come on inside. I have your sandwich all ready for you." Emmy Kate reached out her hands to him, and tugged at Graham's hands to indicate it was time to get up off the floor.