I wake in agony, Logan's friend Patrick Collins, the deputy director, just finishing rebandaging my wounds. My eyes drift to the ugly thirty-centimeter scar across my flat stomach. My voice is hoarse. "Does Logan know?"
Patrick's eyes flicker with guilt, but he wilts under my steady gaze. He shakes his head. "Olivia swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills. She's been crying since they saved her. Logan's been with her, worried she'll try again."
He can't even check on me? I laugh, too tired to care. "Can you wait until the day after tomorrow to tell him about the pup?"
Ryan's message just came through—my fake death is set for midnight tomorrow. Patrick nods, not questioning, and leaves.
Soon, Logan bursts in, panting, wrapping me in a desperate hug. "Babe, I thought I lost you!"
He'
