CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Hana slept late again the next day and awoke feeling groggy. The sun peeked through a gap in the curtains and scattered light over her fiery hair draped across the pillow. Before she even fixed her feet to the rug, she decided to spend the day working on her garden.
In the kitchen, she found Logan on the telephone. He broke off his conversation to kiss her cheek and then ended the call. Already dressed, he looked healthier but still thin and gaunt.
Hana filled the kettle and flicked the switch, leaning back against the counter to face Logan. “Who was that?” she asked.
Logan shrugged. “My father.” He jerked his head towards the window. “Maihi will be glad of the extra grass. He says it will be a bad winter this year.” He seemed edgy and Hana watched his jerky movements
