Tension marched back into her soul and took up residence with Logan’s unexpected question. “You’re okay to trek a few kilometres aren’t you?”
“Pardon.” Her face told him she didn’t understand. “Is that Martian for a walk?” Her look of disgust raised a smile on his face.
“Kinda. Don’t you like exercise?”
Hana winced. “I like tennis.” She shrugged. “And I like watching programmes about tennis.”
Logan shook his head. “No tennis. And no TV.” He got to his feet and took her hand. “Come outside and we’ll get you kitted out.”
Alfred patted Hana on the shoulder with his good hand, the other swathed in plasters and clamped around a large mug of tea. Then he unnerved Hana further by wagging his finger at his son and lifting his eyebrows. Hana dragged her feet at the onslaught of impending doom
