I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. I had been so elated to see her, so relieved, but now I felt a cold dread creeping in. Davina wasn’t the same, and I had no idea what she had become in my absence. Nonetheless, she was still my sister and I knew she wouldn't harm me.
Unaware of the hatred simmering just beneath the surface, I whispered, “Well, I guess it doesn't matter now. I’m so glad you’re back.”
I carried the tray of food to Raphaella’s room again, my steps slower this time. Every visit to her had to be perfectly calculated. Too much kindness, and she’d suspect. Too much pressure, and she’d retreat even further. I had to be gentle with her now—at least until I found the right moment to strike.
Knocking softly on the door, I waited for a few seconds before pushing it open. Raphaella was exactly where I expected her to be, curled up on the small couch by the window, her back facing me. She hadn’t eaten the last meal I brought, and I knew she was getting weaker.