Her bed was cleared, her food in the fridge, and now Hyacinthe was tidying up her room. The blanket straightened from where they had mussed it. Her toy cleaned and set aside. The chair returned.

He had no idea how to help. He needed to go home. He had people depending on him. And he missed his mother, his friends, his home. But he had no desire to hurt her with this, either.

What do?