Mr. Hudgens led Logan and I through a long hallway to a living room situated at the back of the house. Wide windows opened to a spacious backyard filled with trees and flowers, and let in plenty of light.
The room itself was filled with warm tones. Crocheted blankets covered the backs of the leather couch and matching arm chair. All of the furniture looked expensive initially, but nothing about this room felt like a museum. The couches had indentations in the cushions. The tables had little nicks and scratches.
This was a house that was lived in and loved.
“Please. Sit down,” Mr. Hudgens said, gesturing to the loveseat.
I sat, but Logan chose to stand, leaning against it.
Mr. Hudgens exhaled deeply as he lowered himself down onto the arm chair. “Where to even begin?”
“You were there
