FAZER LOGINLogan The first version of the letter sounded like an apology written by a public relations team. I realised that after reading it for the fourth time. Missy, I deeply regret the circumstances surrounding our first meeting and understand that my actions caused confusion and pain. Although my intentions changed as I came to know you, I accept responsibility for beginning our friendship dishonestly. I stared at the page. It was clean. Careful. Completely useless. The words admitted enough to sound responsible without saying anything that made me look truly terrible. I knew how to write those kinds of apologies. Derek had taught me years ago. Acknowledge harm without describing it. Express regret without admitting intention. Promise growth without explaining what needed to change. I tore the page in half. The second attempt was worse. It began honestly, then became an argument. I wrote that Chase had spent years treating me like an
Missy I should have answered Chase immediately. No. That was the safe answer. The sensible answer. The answer everyone expected. Instead, I had sat across from my brother with my hands clasped tightly in my lap and admitted the truth. “I don’t know.” The words had changed his face. Not anger at first. Fear. That was worse. Chase had spent most of his life believing he could protect me by recognising danger before I did. Logan represented every kind of danger he understood. Dishonest. Manipulative. Proud. Experienced at turning attention into control. The man had created a false identity to enter my life because he wanted revenge against my brother. There should have been nothing confusing about my feelings. But feelings rarely asked permission from good judgment. That was the problem. I left Chase’s house shortly after our conversation and returned to my apartment near campus. Tara was waiting inside with takeaway con
Allie Chase came home looking like he had already been suspended. He entered through the garage just after sunset, still wearing the dark coat from the university. His face was tired, his jaw tense, and his phone remained in his hand as notifications continued appearing across the screen. He did not come directly to the living room. He stopped near the kitchen entrance when he saw me. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The television behind me showed another replay of the confrontation. Chase approaching Logan. The shove. His hand gripping Logan’s coat. His fist pulling back before Missy stepped between them. The clip ended there every time. No explanation. No context. Only the worst seconds repeated until they looked like the whole truth. I picked up the remote and turned off the screen. Chase looked toward the dark television. “You did not have to do that.” “I have seen it enough.” “So has everyone else.” He placed his
Chase I saw Logan before I reached Missy. He was walking away from the university courtyard with his hands inside the pockets of his dark coat. No cap. No sunglasses. No attempt to hide who he was or why he had come. Students recognised him. Several had already taken out their phones. Missy stood near the main building with Tara, watching him leave. From where I sat inside the car, the scene looked simple. Logan had ignored every boundary. He had come to Missy’s university after she blocked him. He had cornered her into another conversation. And now he was walking away while she remained behind with that familiar uncertainty on her face. The same uncertainty she had carried after every meeting with him. I opened the car door. My security driver turned toward me. “Chase.” “Stay here.” “You should not approach him.” “I only want to speak.” Neither of us believed that. I crossed the street before the driver could stop me.
Missy I saw Logan before he saw me. He stood near the far edge of the university courtyard, partly hidden beneath the shade of a large tree. Students moved around him in groups, laughing, carrying books, and checking phones between classes. He wore a dark coat and no cap. No sunglasses. No attempt to become Luke again. That should have made the sight easier. It did not. Anger rose so quickly that I stopped walking. Tara, who had left class beside me, followed my gaze. Her expression hardened immediately. “He came here?” “Yes.” “Did you ask him to?” “No.” “That is enough. We are leaving.” I should have agreed. I had blocked him for a reason. The message about Olivia had shown me that even after everything, Logan’s first instinct was still to defend himself. He had called her unstable before acknowledging how his lies encouraged the obsession. He had learned the language of apology. He had not learned responsibility. L
Logan I learned Olivia had been arrested from a television in the police interview room. The screen was mounted high on the wall, muted but impossible to ignore. A news anchor stood beside footage of Olivia being pushed toward a police vehicle while cameras flashed around her. The same clip replayed repeatedly. Olivia twisting against the officers. Her face wet with tears. Her mouth open as she screamed toward a dark security vehicle parked across the street. The caption beneath the footage read: WOMAN ARRESTED INSIDE ALLIE HARPER’S APARTMENT AFTER DISTURBING LIVESTREAM I watched the words move across the screen. The investigator sitting opposite me closed the folder in front of him. “Mr. Carter.” I looked away from the television. Detective Brooks sat beside another investigator from the digital crimes department. Derek and my lawyer occupied the other side of the table. No one looked comfortable. I had already answered questions for nea







