Aunt Marcella had given me all the details about my trip and the feeding program during our dinner. As usual, Eriol acted like an obedient lapdog - whoops - ahemm, I mean, a butler, waiting for whatever his master orders him to do.
We haven't talked since he arrived at sundown together with my Auntie. I would have wanted to confirm if he truly sent Rafael in the hospital and not some faraway island, but he seemed to act like a jerk the moment I saw him in the kitchen: all gloomy eyed and exhausting a do-not-mess-with-me aura, so I didn't dare start a conversation with him.
I wondered why though. There must be something that went wrong. But oh well, at least he had the commonsense to kick his doppelgänger out of the picture at last and present his true self in front of us.
The whole
