Then I led him upstairs. Amelia had worked hard on making one of the little bedrooms pretty, and she’d decorated the other one as a sitting room. She’d taken her laptop with her, but the TV was still there. I checked to make sure that the bed was made up with clean linens and the closet was mostly clear of Amelia’s clothing. I pointed out the door to the walk-in attic, in case he needed to store anything. Claude pulled it open and took a step inside. He looked around at the shadowy, crowded space. Generations of Stackhouses had stored things they thought they might need someday, and I admit it was a little on the cluttered and chaotic side.

“You need to go through this,” he said. “Do you even know what’s up here?”

“Family debris,” I said, looking in with some dismay. I’d just never worked up the heart to tackle it since Gran died.

“I’ll help you,” Claude declared. “That will be my payment to you for my room.”

I opened my mouth to point out that Amelia had given me cash, but then I reflected, again, that he was family. “That would be great,” I said. “Though I don’t know if I’m up to it yet.” My wrists had been aching this morning, though they were definitely better than they’d been. “And there are some other jobs around the house that are beyond me, if you wouldn’t mind giving a hand.”

He bowed. “I would be delighted,” he said.

This was a different side of Claude from the one I’d come to know and disparage.

Grief and loneliness seemed to have woken something in the beautiful fairy; he appeared to have come to the realization that he had to show a little kindness to other people if he wanted to receive kindness in return. Claude seemed to understand that he needed others, especially now that his sisters were gone.

I was a little more at ease with our arrangement by the time I left for work.