woke up to another mess in your living room

She didn't mean to pop her stitches open again. Hen swears. No, she swears she wasn't roughhousing with the kids, Molly certainly hadn't pounced on her, and no one was going to be telling anyone any differently. If anyone asked, Henbane had slipped and popped open the tenuously closed wound on her shoulder, yet again. That was her story and she was sticking to it, babysitter's rules.

And Cricket probably already knew, but who was keeping score? For as much as she didn't like being in anyone's debt, it wasn't so bad here. Henbane was trying to make their lives easier, trying not to ruffle too many feathers, and trying not to get in the way. Or... well, as much as she can. As much as she can when she's limping back to Cricket's den with an open wound and an apologetic smile.

"Speech"