Logan was sitting in his chair in his office when I arrived. The lights were out except for a single floor lamp in the corner. He had his hands placed almost like a prayer position in front of him, his elbows resting on the desk, and he had his forehead resting against the thumbs of his hands. His eyes were closed. My heart sank at the sight of him. Whatever this was, it was serious.
I gently knocked on the door. His eyes flew open and he gestured for me to enter. He didn’t stand, he just crossed his arms in front of him on the desk.
“Please, have a seat,” he said. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. His hair was disheveled and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
I sat on the edge of the chair in front of his desk. I held my purse tightly in my lap. I sudden
