Chapter Thirteen
Logan pulled out a pocketknife and sliced the top of the envelope, casting a tilted head in my direction. Dancing from one foot to the next must have given him ample go-ahead, as he proceeded to carefully slide the document out. It wasn’t a tome, but it still had a bit of girth to it, given the way he cradled it with both hands. As his eyes skirted from side to side, he offered a nail-biting variation of frowns, pursed lips, head shakes and nods before flipping to the next page.
Despite my effort to remain calm, I gnawed at my lip, and before long, it became so tender I was forced to dab at it with my fingers. Sighing when they came away blood-free, I realized that even this temporary distraction had done zilch in the way of alleviating the anxiety that continued to surg
