Rafael Sinclair was staring at the small figure sleeping peacefully in bed. How her face resembled Marissa's.
How she reminded him of Abigail, whom he lost many years ago and could never get out of regret. How he was supposed to protect his family but failed miserably.
Among all his kids, he had been closest to Abigail. It was never a secret in the family that he loved her the most.
Maybe it was because of the health problems she had been facing since birth. He exhaled before he moved the hair strand off her cheek and touched his index finger to her hair.
"Get a grip, Rafael," he warned himself and stepped back. The girl looked so drained and so frightened that he didn't want to give her the impression that he was a creep.
He silently went out of the room and waved at Ragnar who was on night duty, "Can you serve me drinks at the poolside?"
The man saluted him, "Sure, Mr. Sinclair."
Rafael took the phone outside and thought of dialing Marissa's number.
***
