A lie.

By the next morning, I had a headache and my eyes were red.

I had barely been able to sleep especially since after last night's visit from Rafael.

He had always been awful to me, but never to that extent.

I didn't even want to go down to the breakfast table, but I knew papa would come up and demand what had happened.

And when Papa sighted me staying in my room, cowering and refusing to come downstairs, he would press me till I spilled the truth and go down to murder Rafael.

As much as hated Rafael, I didn't want him dead, I simply wanted him gone from the house.

But mother would turn the whole situation on me and say it was my fault and I would be back at square one with her hating me and making my life miserable.

I didn't want that.

"Good morning." I said looking down at my food hoping he won't notice I looked like I had been up for a whole week.

"What happened to you?" He asked.