Ethan woke around midnight.
I fed him while the city darkened outside.
His tiny hand curled around my finger.
“You have an extremely complicated family,” I whispered.
He blinked at me.
“But we’ll figure it out.”
The following morning, there was a small envelope beneath my breakfast tray.
My name was written on it in Robert’s handwriting.
Inside was a note.
I told Logan exactly what you asked me to tell him.
He asked if he could send one message through me.
If you do not want it, I will not bring it.
—Robert
I read the note twice.
Then wrote beneath it:
Bring it.
An hour later, Robert returned.
He didn’t hand me a phone.
He gave me another piece of paper.
“He said a text felt too easy.”
On the paper, Logan had written:
Thank you for telling me.
I’m grateful you and Ethan are safe.
