Rory carefully replanted the tiny wildflower that Burnt Dumpling had so ruthlessly dug out earlier, settling it into a clean, new pot filled with fresh soil. She adjusted the roots with gentle fingers, making sure the fragile stem sat upright before stepping back in satisfaction. Afterward, she programmed the household smart robot to tend to it—watering on schedule, adding nutrients at precise intervals, and loosening the soil whenever needed.
Only then did she turn around and hand Burnt Dumpling and the charred, bent stick to Jasper before returning to her packing.
Jasper lingered a short distance away, his presence marked by restlessness. He watched Rory move about the room, her hands efficient and practiced as she packed, each motion deliberate.
Several times, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as though bracing himself. His fingers twitched at his side. He clearly wanted to help, yet uncertainty rooted him in place, leaving him hovering uselessly in her wake.
