“Did he go left or right?” Logan hissed as he reached the hall door. “I can’t see him.”
“Left,” Hana answered. “Where does that go?”
Logan winced and amusement crossed his face. “Henrietta’s room.” He snorted and lifted a finger, calling for silence while he listened. “I can’t hear anything. Maybe he lost it.”
“He never loses them.” Hana sighed and tried to run her hand over her eyes, groaning as the stitches in her palm passed across the bridge of her nose. Logan watched her in silence, his grey eyes mirroring her awkwardness.
“Oh well, Henrietta may have a little surprise in her bedroom tomorrow, but it won’t be Pete!” Logan’s laugh sounded hollow as he sat on the sofa.
Hana grabbed a piece of kitchen roll and mopped at the dried blood on her arm. It scratched and scraped but achiev
