#Chapter 143 The Key

Emily The sheets are warm. Logan changed them earlier and I can still smell the lavender detergent, soft and faint. The linen feels like a cocoon around me, protecting me from the outside world. I’m tucked in deep, my head against the pillow, and the lights are low. The storm outside has passed, but the air in the room still feels heavy. The distant sounds of the crashing waves helps ground me in reality but I still feel uneasy. Logan silently moves around the bedroom, finishing up his little nighttime routine. He pulls the curtains closed, locking the windows, dimming the lights. I can hear the soft rustle of his movements, the steady rhythm of him being near. It should make me feel safe. I should feel safe knowing that my husband — the love of my life — is here to protect me from the dangers of the outside world. But I can’t stop thinking about Wanda. Her words. Her voice. Her eyes. You carry more than grief, child. You carry a secret. I remember the way the air cracked