Chapter 2
Logan opened the door slowly.
“Hi,” he said, softening his voice in a way he had not needed to do with any child except Ivy for two years. “Are you okay?”
The braver twin swallowed.
“We’re so cold.”
Her voice was small but steady, carrying the strange responsibility of a child who had been forced to speak for two.
Logan crouched by the open door.
“Where are your parents?”
The girl’s lips trembled.
“We lost our mother.”
Logan felt the sentence hit him like a physical blow.
“What do you mean you lost her?”
The little girl looked down at her sister’s bear.
“She doesn’t wake up anymore.”
The entire night changed shape.
For one frozen second, Logan was not in a parking lot. He was back in a hospital room with Sarah’s hand in his, watching machines breathe and blink around a woman who no longer opened her eyes. He knew what “doesn’t wake up anymore” meant. He knew the terrible softness children used when they did not yet have the words for death.
“How long have you been alone?” he asked.
“Two days,” the girl answered quickly. “We slept in the park yesterday under the slide. But today the snow didn’t stop.”
Logan looked at their purple lips, wet shoes, trembling hands, and something inside him stopped negotiating.
“You’re coming with me,” he said. “I’ll take you somewhere warm.”
The girls looked at each other.
The quieter one whispered into her sister’s ear.
“You won’t hurt us, right?” the speaking twin asked.
“No,” Logan said immediately. “I promise.”
“You really promise?”
“I really promise.”
They climbed out of the backseat, unsteady from cold and hunger. Logan helped them into the front of the SUV and turned the heat as high as it would go. Warm air roared from the vents. The girls held their hands toward it, trembling as if warmth itself was something fragile they might lose.
“What are your names?” Logan asked as he drove out of the lot.
“I’m Emily,” said the braver twin. “She’s Nora. She doesn’t talk much to people we don’t know.”
“I’m Logan.”
“We know,” Emily said quietly.
Logan glanced at her in the mirror.
“How?”
“Your name is on the building.”
He did not know why that made his throat tighten.
The building with his name on it had not helped them. His wealth had not found them. His foundation had not protected them. A half-unlocked car door had done what entire systems failed to do.
“Do you have food at your house?” Emily asked after a long silence.
“Yes,” Logan said. “And hot water. You can take a bath, too.”
“It’s been a long time since we had a hot bath,” Emily whispered.
Nora pressed her face into the one-eared bear and did not speak.
May you like
Logan’s mansion sat behind iron gates in a quiet neighborhood where every roofline was carefully maintained and every driveway was plowed before breakfast. When he pulled into the garage, the girls stared out at the space as if they had arrived at a museum, not a home.
“Stay here a second,” Logan said. “I need to check on my daughter. I don’t want to scare her.”
