“You left,” Dylan said through the phone later, when I sat at home crying and Logan was still in the hospital.
“I’m sorry…”
Dylan listened quietly for a moment. Then he said, “How much did you hear?”
“Enough,” I sniffled.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“Nothing yet.”
“’Yet’ implies you plan on doing something later,” Dylan said. “You don’t have to say it. I think I can guess. And if I’m right, let me just say that you both are alike in your monumentally bad ideas.”
“I’m done backing Logan into a corner,” I said.
“It’s his grandfather doing that.”
“To protect me.”
“Hazel –”
“I won’t let him sacrifice everything for me,” I said. “It’s better for everyone if I walk away.”
Dylan sighed. “You could just talk to him…”
“That wouldn’t work. He deserves to be free of all of thi
