The transplant in progress made her think of her grandmother's lectures she had heard about their importance growing up. Being dragged down to the greenhouse as soon as morning prayers were completed to hear lectures about family traditions and the sturdiness of some plants in comparison to others. It had still not created a morning person out of her, much to their matriarch's dismay.
"No, sir." I would not have come if I had known anyone was here sounded suspicious, as if she were up to no good. Saying she simply wanted to be in the hothouse sounded frivolous and a bit silly, "I simply wanted to make sure nothing pressing was out of place cleaning wise, I will leave you to your transplant." Her head would not duck in a second silent apology, but she did tip her eyes down as much in respect as displeasure with herself for making such a mistake and a flimsy lie to boot.