Chapter 15
Logan responded to a knock on the door, swinging it open in frustration. Phoenix sighed in her drawer and her tiny fists flailed. Alfred braced himself against the doorframe outside, his hair wet and slicked flat on his crown. Tufts stuck up at the back where it needed cutting. The beard had gone and specks of blood marked the areas where his razor won the battle.
Hana rose and called to him. “Hey, come in, Grandpa. I’ll make tea.”
“Hi,” Alfred said. He reached out a hand to touch Logan and then withdrew it. Hana winced, missing the friendly hongi of greetings before the fire. She saw Logan’s brow knit and recognised his craving for affection. She wished Alfred had clasped him and pressed his nose and forehead to Logan’s just like always. Sighing, she walked to the en-suite t
