She works. She arranges for laundry to get done with almost no effort on her part. She takes out the trash. She watches kids and misses her cousins and worries about which neighbor will be looking out for them now. She says plausible but sometimes incorrect things about her own mental state that she would usually consider private.
After a couple of weeks when she's more than halfway done with Starbucks, a customer walks in with a face that reminds her of Sesat. That's not a shock, sometimes people do; it seems like there are a couple of ethnic groups from not-quite-here-exactly that look vaguely Sesati. Actually, almost exactly like her brother, which she barely notices before dismissing from her mind; with only so many families in Sesat it's not the done thing to point out how similar people look to one another, and it doesn't mean anything.
It - he - the credulous almost-human servitor - moves like her brother. Teru has never been particularly trained out of noticing that. He moves like Valan used to before he was a soldier. It draws her attention. It makes her wonder if somehow he's come for her, in disguise - how?
She takes someone's order. She has to look away. She mutters something about finding one of the customers attractive. Her attention is elsewhere, her attention is so many elsewheres at once (and relatedly she's learning a new respect for servants), and then -