I propped myself on the bed to read Dr. Maxwell"s journal again, starting from the beginning.
I was about a quarter of the way through when Logan came back, carrying some bags and a laptop under one arm.
He placed the laptop on the bed and the bags on top of the small, round table and turned to face me.
“I got us some good food here.” No trace of anger or anything suggested he was still upset about the incident earlier.
While I showered and did my dirty laundry, I thought back on those few minutes in the car and tried to put myself in his place, see the event through his eyes.
If I were traveling with someone who had escaped a fortified major-league facility without any apparent outside help; had multiple dangerous preternatural beings gunning for her; had no idea what she was, but th
