Hana looked up at him and her eyes were steady, focussed and calm. Her palms rested gently on the cursed book as though drawing strength from its presence. “I can never be the person you thought I was, Logan,” she said and smiled at him with something like apology. “Because that person doesn’t exist. You didn’t know me when you decided I was worth pursuing as your soul mate. I was just a terrified, lonely, disgraced girl on a train who you could ‘fix’ and then fixate on. It was just a snapshot of who I really am, a single unit of time in forty-five years of a life well lived. I’m tired of bowing to an illusion, trying to be someone you’ve spent more than two decades manufacturing in your head. I’m me, Logan, nothing more, nothing less and I’m reasonably happy with who that is. I’ll never b
