Isabela smiled brightly at the sight of him, even as she took in the odd clothing, the fact that he looked older than she remembered, more worn down. Of course he did, she told herself. It had been ten years, and everyone changed in ten years, and it wasn't fair to be critical.
'Uncle Bruno,' she said as she stepped inside, 'I am so glad to see you. I thought that I was all alone here, and everything was written in English, and-' she gave a dramatic flick of her hand, 'it has been far too long.' She didn't ask why he had never come to visit them, because she could guess the answer, and she didn't want to remind him of anything that might be painful.
'Are you well?' Isabela asked instead. There were explanations that she did want, about where he'd been, and how she might not remember the things he did, because some of his messages had confused her. But there would be time enough for those later.