"I left my border sketch on the chair," Logan finally said. Dad and I shared a quick look, both letting out a soft breath.
"Of course," Dad said, his voice easing as he glanced at the seat Logan had used. "It's right here."
Logan stepped over, grabbed the rolled parchment, and headed for the door. Just as his hand touched the knob, I found the strength to speak.
"Logan," I called out and he stopped, caught off guard. He turned slow, that icy wall back in his grey eyes.
I nodded to Dad, who picked up the hint fast. "I'll leave you two," he said, slipping out and shutting the door softly behind him.
Alone now, Logan's stare held me in place, hard as winter frost.
"Logan, I need to say sorry for what happened... five years back," I started, my words shaking a bit. "I know I broke you."
His eyes narrowed sharp, but he stayed silent and that quietness hit worse than any growl.
