“Leslie…” Rafayel’s mother whispered, her voice a gentle murmur above my sobs. Though tears still choked me, I managed to glance up slightly. “Don’t dwell on Rafayel’s behaviour. I’ll speak to him later.”

“But… it is my fault…” I replied between ragged breaths, my voice trembling. “I shouldn’t have been so careless…”

“Your stomach is still cramping, isn’t it?” She brushed aside my guilt, practical and unyielding. “I’ve called someone to bring a hot water bottle and something soft to eat. Try not to fret over him—that boy’s stubbornness is his own burden.”

Rafayel’s mother didn’t acknowledge my self-reproach. Instead, she smoothed my hair and murmured quiet comforts, her touch...