Missy
I saw Logan before he saw me.
He stood near the far edge of the university courtyard, partly hidden beneath the shade of a large tree. Students moved around him in groups, laughing, carrying books, and checking phones between classes.
He wore a dark coat and no cap.
No sunglasses.
No attempt to become Luke again.
That should have made the sight easier.
It did not.
Anger rose so quickly that I stopped walking.
Tara, who had left class beside me, followed my gaze.
Her expression hardened immediately.
“He came here?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask him to?”
“No.”
“That is enough. We are leaving.”
I should have agreed.
I had blocked him for a reason.
The message about Olivia had shown me that even after everything, Logan’s first instinct was still to defend himself. He had called h
