Kayla sat beside the bed, watching Logan's chest rise and fall as he slept. His face looked calm now, no trace of the pain from before.
She dipped a towel into the bowl of water by her side, wrung it gently, and placed the folded fabric on his forehead.
"I'm glad your fever's gone down," she whispered, brushing a damp strand of hair away from his face.
Just then, she heard the door creak open.
"That must be Brooke."
Quickly, she slid the bowl under the bed and stood up.
"Brooke, you're back!" she said, stepping out and closing the door halfway behind her.
"I forgot my phone," Brooke replied casually, walking in.
"Oh." Kayla tried to steady her breathing.
"You won't believe what happened to the neighbors downstairs," Brooke said, sitting on the chair and crossing her legs.
Kayla's eyes darted toward her room. "What happened this time?"
"Their youngest daughter had an accident. She was bleeding really badly," Brooke said, shaking her head.
"Not again," Kayla frowned. "Those parents are so careless. They always neglect those poor kids."
"I know. It was heartbreaking," Brooke said softly. "The little girl kept screaming, 'Save me, brother, please!' It gave me chills."
"And you just stood there?" Kayla snapped."Shouldn't you have helped her?"
"You think I'm heartless?" Brooke shot back. "I wanted to call the ambulance but realized I'd forgotten my phone."
Kayla exhaled, guilt flashing in her eyes. "Sorry… I just—"
"Relax, Kay. Her brother came out just in time. They're probably at the hospital now," Brooke said, running a hand through her hair. "Now, where is that phone…"
"Haven't you found it?" Kayla asked nervously.
"Yeah—oh, there it is. It's in your room."
Kayla's heart stopped. My room?
Her eyes widened. "No!" she screamed before she could stop herself.
***
Kayla's POV
***
Brooke flinched. "Why are you yelling?"
"I—I didn't mean to," I stammered, forcing a shaky laugh. "It just came out loud"
"You nearly made me deaf," Brooke grumbled, covering her ears as she walked past me toward the door.
Panic rushed through my veins. No! She can't see him!
"Brooke!" i shouted again
She turned sharply. "What is your problem, Kayla? You keep yelling like you've seen a ghost."
I stepped in front of the door, blocking her way. "Because I don't want you to go in there."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're joking, right? We literally share that tiny room."
"Still, it's mine. I'll get your phone," I said quickly, my voice shaky.
She crossed her arms. "You're hiding something, aren't you? Is your secret boyfriend in there?"
"What? No!" I blurted out. "I just—uh—can't let you in right now."
Brooke smirked. "Are you planning a surprise for me?"
A lightbulb went off in my head. Her birthday!
"Yes! That's exactly it," I said quickly, forcing a grin. "I didn't want you to ruin it."
Her expression softened instantly. "You're the sweetest! You know how much I love surprises. That's why I love you, Kay."
Before I could react, she pecked me on the cheek.
"Gross," I laughed nervously, rubbing my face. "Stop doing that."
"It's because you're adorable," she teased, flipping her hair.
I waited until she turned away before slipping into my room again. Logan was still asleep, his breathing steady.
Relief washed over me.
Then I noticed Brooke's phone lying on the floor. "What a careless friend," I murmured, picking it up and closing the door gently behind me.
"Are you coming back tonight?" I asked as we walked out of the building.
"Nope. Mom wants me home for dinner, so I'll be staying over." She slid the phone into her bag.
"It's fine. It's been a while since you visited home," I said, trying to sound normal even though my mind was elsewhere.
"Walk me to the bus stop?" she asked, looping her arm through mine.
I hesitated. Logan was still alone inside. But Brooke's puppy eyes weakened me, and soon, I gave in.
By the time I returned home, the sun was dipping low. I spotted the little girl from downstairs—the one Brooke mentioned—stepping out of a taxi with her brother.
"Hey, little Barbie! Are you okay now?" I asked, squatting in front of her.
"I'm fine now, Miss Kayla," she said with a bright smile.
"That's good. Be careful next time, okay? And listen to your brother." I said ruffling her hair
"I will," she nodded eagerly. "But… What about the man who helped me?"
I froze. "The man?"
"The one who looked sick. He kept holding his chest after hearing my voice," she said innocently. "I wanted to tell the ambulance to take him too, but I was in too much pain."
My eyes widened slightly. Logan…
I forced a smile. "That's kind of you to worry about him."
"Can we come over for dinner, Auntie?" the little girl asked, bouncing on her feet.
Her brother bowed politely. "We don't want to trouble you."
"It's no trouble at all," I smiled. "Little Barbie misses my cooking, right?"
"I do!" she giggled.
"Then I'll bring you something soon," I promised, waving as they went inside.
As I walked back, my mind replayed the girl's words.
Save me, brother… please.
Logan had the attack after hearing those words?
"Logan really has a way of making me think about him," I whispered, sighing as I pushed the door open.
I entered the room quietly and found him still asleep, his chest rising and falling softly.
The dim light from the bedside lamp brushed against his skin, making him look almost angelic.
I sat gently beside him, unable to stop the smile forming on my lips.
"I never noticed you were this cute," I whispered, tracing a finger across his nose.
But my smile soon faded.
"What could possibly make you have such attacks?" I murmured, leaning my chin on my arm. "I hate seeing you like this, Logan."
A few moments passed in silence before his breathing changed. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He started trembling.
"Oh no," I gasped, rushing to the bowl of water. I soaked the towel again and wrung it out quickly.
Just as I was about to wipe his forehead, he mumbled something. His voice was low—broken.
"Guess he's having a bad dream…" I whispered.
Then I heard it clearly.
"Lauren…" he breathed, his voice shaking. Fear painted his face even in sleep.
"I'm coming to save you…" he whispered again, his hands twitching as though reaching for someone unseen.
Startled, I slipped my hand into his, and instantly he gripped it tightly—desperately.
"It's okay, Logan. You're fine," I said softly, stroking his hand gently.
I kept at it, my thumb brushing against his knuckles until the tension in his face began to fade. Slowly, his breathing returned to normal.
Even though he looked calm now, my heart still raced. I couldn't help but watch him closely, afraid something might happen again.
***
Logan's POV
***
When I finally opened my eyes, the room was quiet.
For the first time in years, I felt… rested. The heavy ache in my chest was gone.
My gaze focused—and there she was. Kayla.
Her ocean-blue eyes locked with mine. Neither of us spoke for a few seconds, and for some reason, the silence didn't feel awkward. It felt right.
"You're awake," she said softly.
"I think so." I smiled weakly.
"You slept for hours," she added.
"Hours? I thought I was in a coma," I joked.
"Don't joke about that!" she scolded, hitting my arm lightly.
I chuckled. "I really slept well. Your bed's too comfy."
"Get up and have dinner," she said, heading toward the door.
"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," I replied—only for my stomach to betray me with a loud growl.
Kayla giggled. "I'm not sure about that."
I sighed in defeat and followed her out of the room, settling at the small dining table.
She came out of the kitchen carrying a tray—chicken noodle soup, buttery mashed potatoes, and warm dinner rolls, with a glass of lemon tea on the side.
"This is a treat," I said, surprised.
She smiled shyly before returning to the kitchen.
I took a spoonful—and my eyes widened. The taste was incredible. It had been so long since I'd eaten something homemade. Something made with care.
A small sound escaped me. "Hmmmm."
Kayla rushed back in, worried. "What happened? Don't you like it? I can make something else—"
"It's delicious," I said quickly, and her face relaxed into a bright smile.
"Thank goodness it's to your taste."
After finishing, I stood and carried my plate to the kitchen despite her protests.
"Thanks for the meal," I said, drying my hands. "I owe you one."
"You're welcome," she said, reaching into the fridge for a box of pizza.
"Where did you learn to cook like that?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"From my mum," she replied with a fond smile. "She was an amazing cook."
"She must've been," I said.
"I loved cooking with her. Every Sunday, we'd bake something new…" she continued, removing onions and tomatoes from the pizza topping.
My eyes lingered on her as she worked—her soft movements, her quiet humming.
"What are you looking at?" she asked suddenly, catching me staring.
"Why are you doing that?" I asked instead, nodding at the tomato slices.
"I hate tomatoes in my food," she said, scrunching her nose.
"Are you allergic?"
"No, I just hate how juicy they are. It's…" she made a disgusted face, sticking her tongue out playfully.
I chuckled quietly, lost for a moment.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, blinking. "Do I have something on my face?"
"You remind me of her," I said before I could stop myself.
"Who?" she teased. "Your girlfriend?"
"Never mind," I muttered, walking out of the kitchen, my chest tightening.
But before I could get far, her voice came again—soft, hesitant.
"Logan… may I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Who's Lauren?" she asked bluntly.
I froze.
The air around me thickened. My body stiffened instantly.
How did she know that name? It had been years—years since anyone dared to say it out loud.