Pierre. Of course. My joy faltered slightly at the mention of his name. What was Davina doing here? Why hadn’t she reached out to me sooner?
“I didn’t know…” I said softly. “Why didn’t you—”
“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” she interrupted, her smile still not touching her eyes. “I know you’ve had a lot to deal with.”
I stepped back, studying her carefully. Something about this reunion felt wrong, but I couldn’t place what it was. Still, I was so relieved to see her that I pushed the doubt aside.
“I’m so happy you’re alive,” I said, trying to hold onto the joy. “I’ve missed you so much.”
She gave a small, dismissive nod. “I’m here now. And Pierre asked me to take care of you.”
Her words jolted me. “Take care of me? What do you mean?”
Davina’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her expression remained carefully controlled. “You haven’t been eating, Raphaella. Pierre’s worried about you. He thought maybe you’d listen to me.”
I frowned, confusion swirling in my mind. Pierre had sent her? Why? And why had she agreed?
“I don’t need Pierre to send anyone to take care of me,” I said, the bitterness in my voice returning. “I don’t need anything from him.”