A cool breeze danced across her face, teasing a stray lock of hair. Moanna kept replaying Matthew's words as she studied Logan's profile—the angry red handprint still visible on his cheek, painfully vivid evidence of how hard that slap had landed.
"Does it hurt?"
Moanna's gaze locked onto him, her heart going out to him.
Logan said nothing, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel as the air in the car turned thick with tension.
"Your dad said they both miss you—wants you home. Logan... five years without visiting. Why?"
She tossed her tousled hair back, her tone casual but the question loaded. The car surged forward beneath them the moment she spoke—Logan's anger speaking louder than words.
She wet her lips. "Logan? Are you even listening?"
Without warning, the brakes screa
