Raven was sitting in Charles bed, her arms and legs bruised thanks to their steph-brother. She hoped Charles would return soon.
Charles’ blood runs cold when he comes in to find his sister in such a state; the satchel that his books are carried in is discarded hastily by the door as Charles rushes over, visibly distressed. “Raven, what--?” He can feel her mind, even if he refuses to read it, and anger surges through him at the realisation of who must have done this to her.
He’d warned Cain not to lay a hand on her. He’d warned, then threatened, and then he’d begged and hoped for the best.