Steffan was still on his knees staring up at Racheal. She wore her dress properly, and went back to her seat in the dining room.

He stood up, and she could feel him staring at her, but she did not look up at him.

“Racheal, who did that to you?” He asked, watching her intently.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She replied, forking a piece of now cold, bite-sized steak into her mouth. She could not taste the flavours of the meal, it tasted like paper, and her throat burned with ...