Raymond's voice was quiet but firm as he came to her bedside. "I sent Adam home to rest," he told Sofia, smoothing a hand over her blanket as if she were still his little girl. "He hasn't slept in almost forty-eight hours."
Relief loosened something tight inside her chest. For the first time all day, she let out a trembling breath. Thank God her father had forced her husband to go—Adam would never have left otherwise.
"I should sleep too," Raymond murmured, fatigue darkening the edges of his eyes.
Sofia's lips wobbled into a small smile as she nodded. She knew he was hiding the truth—that he still had to oversee Beatrice's body, still had decisions to make and signatures to give. He hadn't said it out loud because he was trying to protect her. Because he knew every mention of her sister's name felt like a blade to Sofia's chest.
"Of course, Dad. Thank you... for taking care of me," she whispered, her voice breaking on the last word.
