Her voice dipped just enough to stop me. “I’m not taking your money. I’m happy to help.”
“Alright,” I said under my breath. “Fine.”
She exhaled, and I could hear the smile in it. “Good. I’ll come by tomorrow after work. You can give me the official rundown.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “Thanks, Counselor.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” A stifled giggle escaped her mouth.
“I do,” I said. “Because I don’t usually say yes to help. And you didn’t have to offer.”
“Maybe I didn’t,” she said, her voice gentler now. “But I wanted to.”
We fell into a comfortable silence. The kind that felt like a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
Finally, she said, “Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“Get some rest today, okay? You sound like you haven’t exhaled in a week. Go easy on yourself,” she said. “You’re doing your best.”
The line was cold for a second, both of us lingering in that moment where neither wanted to hang up first.
Then she said softly, “Tell Harper I said hi. And that I’ll see her soon.”
“You got it.”
When the call ended, I just sat there for a while, staring at my phone, the faint echo of her voice still in my head.
It wasn’t just relief.
It was the feeling of not being completely alone for the first time in years.
Chapter 11
Dani
The first thing I noticed when I pulled into Logan’s driveway wasn’t the house—it was the pair of tiny pink sneakers sitting neatly by the door.
The house looked completely different in daylight than it did that first night. The first night, everything had been shadow, ocean air, and nerves. Now the details came into focus: rows of beachside condos stretched along the sand. All looked similar, each shaped by time, salt, and the people who lived inside. A few doors had surfboards propped beside them; others had potted plants or wind chimes that clicked softly in the breeze.
Logan’s truck, an older-model black Chevy, was parked in the driveway. It was the kind of truck that didn’t care if it impressed anyone, as long as it got you where you needed to go.
Beyond the line of condos, the beach opened up to sloping dunes and the ocean. I could smell the salt and feel it cling faintly to my skin as I stepped out of the car. The whole place had a calm that sank into my bones—the kind you don’t realize you’ve been craving until it’s right in front of you.
As I parked my car in the driveway, my stomach fluttered in that ridiculous way it always did when I was nervous. I smoothed my blouse, already accepting Harper would probablycover it in glitter, and grabbed my bag. By the time I reached the door, it opened before I could knock.
“You’re here,” he said.
Of course, he’d say it like that. No greeting. No soft landing.
Logan stood there, one hand braced against the frame, with an expression that was completely unreadable. No smile, no warmth. Just a flicker in his eyes as he caught my gaze, then looked away. His shoulders were rigid, as if he were bracing for impact or waiting for something to go wrong. Whatever hit him, he buried it fast, leaving only that tense set to his mouth.
I swallowed a smile. “Last I checked.”
His gaze met mine for only half a second, searching my face briefly, before he stepped aside and pulled the door open wider for me to enter, still silent.
I stepped inside, immediately hit by the cool air.
