“I’m sorry about Alan’s death; I know he was your friend,” Angus said gently and Logan looked at him, his brows knitting.
“I thought he was your friend too?”
Angus looked away. “He was once upon a time.” His voice sounded heavy and sad, the timbre of his Scots accent uncharacteristically dull.
“How long did you know each other?” Logan asked, sensing some hidden undertone but unable to grab it.
Angus gave a deep sigh. “I met Alan and Dora many years ago. We all taught together at the North Shore Grammar School up in Auckland. I’m surprised you don’t remember. You were there.”
Logan’s jaw dropped. “I remember you. I don’t remember either of them. It must have been before my time.”
“No,” Angus shook his head. “They both left after your first year and went...elsewhere. But they definitel
