She does, doesn't she.

And Heria, having no knowledge of this for the moment, sits in the roof garden and sews.

 Denice is no more aware.

She does, eventually, finish looking at the sky, and moves to a bench, where she sits quietly, looking at the plants.

The plants are plant-like.

Sometimes people will walk by. Heria will smile at them and sometimes great them. They won't bother Denice.

Denice tenses up anyway. A little less after the first few, but still noticeably.

Heria stays aware, but won't try intervene by default at that level, given the rest of the situation.

Denice seems to be handling it okay, at least.

After a while she loses interest in the plants, but she makes no move to go back in, instead staring off into space.

Staring into space is fine. If she starts looking bored or distressed or restless or otherwise, Heria will try preference questions.

She doesn't, except insofar as staring off into space might itself suggest boredom.

She won't assume it definitely does.

She'll sit quietly until something disturbs her, then. (Gosh, she's doing a lot of just-sitting, here. Not that she's complaining - she's used to it being very much better than the alternative - but it will get old eventually, and that'll be a problem. It's fine for now, though.)

After maybe forty-five minutes, Heria will try to check on her.

"Do you want to walk around, or stay here some more, or go back inside? Nod for walk around, shake your head for back inside?"