Page 122 of Tattered (Lark Cove 1)

All along, I’d believed that we could make this work. I’d believed that I could convince them to move. But as I listened to Thea and Charlie talk about going home, my beliefs slipped into the night.

Because I knew, deep down, the right thing to do was to let them go where they would be happiest.

I closed the door to Charlie’s room and almost screamed when I saw Logan sitting outside it. My hand flew to my pounding heart. “Oh my god, you scared me.”

“Sorry.”

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

He shook his head, staring at the floor. “Just listening. Is she asleep?”

“Yeah. She’s exhausted. It’s been a long week.” I held out a hand to help him up.

He took it, standing quickly and yanking me into his arms. We stood there for a few minutes, clinging to the other in the dark hallway. Finally, he broke away and took my hand, leading me to our bedroom. Logan flipped on the light, then ran a hand through his hair as he sat on the end of the bed.

I crossed the room and plopped next to him, our hunched shoulders touching.

“I’m sorry, baby. I never would have brought you here if I’d thought they’d act like that. I just can’t believe . . .” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry.”

/> “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” He might not have expected them to act so suspicious, but I hadn’t been entirely surprised. Disappointed, yes. But not all that surprised.

Logan took one of my hands, his long fingers easily wrapping over my palm. Then he turned it over, studying my knuckles. I felt his next words before they came out. “Don’t leave.”

“I have to,” I whispered.

“Why?”

I turned to meet his pleading gaze. “I need to go home. This life . . .” I stood from the bed, swinging an arm to indicate the expensive room. “This life isn’t for me.”

“It could be.”

I took a deep breath, willing myself not to cry. If even a single tear fell, I’d never be able to finish. And Logan deserved an explanation.

It was time for the conversation I’d been dreading for days.

“Your dad looked into me, didn’t he?”

He nodded. “I didn’t know, but he told me tonight. There are some things he found. Things you should know.”

“Did he find my mother?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s about the orphanage and the director. She—”

“Don’t tell me.” I cut him off. “I don’t want to know.” I’d said good-bye to that chapter of my life earlier this week at the orphanage.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I might ask you one day, but not now.”

“All right.”

“It’s probably easier that way.” I was glad I didn’t have to explain it all. “Now you know that I come from nothing. All I have from my childhood were those photos you found and some old tattered baby booties that a nurse made me while I was detoxing in the hospital.”

“I don’t care where you came from.”

“I know. But can you understand how big of a change this is? You have so much.”

“And you can too.” He stopped me. “You can have anything your heart desires.”