Logan's trembling hands dropped to his sides as the night wind brushed against his face, carrying with it the faint scent of rain and earth. The cemetery was silent—too silent. Only the soft rustle of leaves filled the space between his breaths. His chest rose and fell heavily, his heart pounding as if trying to break free from the cage he had built inside himself for years.
He stared at the gravestones once more—Douglas and Suzzanah Blackwood. Two names that still defined the pieces of him he could never bury. His throat tightened. He had spent years running from this moment, from them, from himself. But grief had a way of finding its path back no matter how far one went.
