For the first time in longer than he could remember, Logan wandered aimlessly along the grounds. Strolling down the dirt paths—framed by wildflowers and palm trees. Hiking up the grassy hills. Jogging down onto the sand so he could look out at the water.
He was vaguely aware of the fact that Millard was watching him from the house—glued to the window. If he hadn’t thought that Logan was having some sort of mental breakdown by coming home early before, he most certainly did now. No doubt he’d already thought of at least five award-winning psychiatrists to call—his fingers twitching restlessly over his phone.
Logan didn’t blame him. Everyone from Annalise, to Jerry, to the board, right down to his own private eye thought he was being strange. It should have bothered him. He’d cultivated a flawless reputation based upon dependability. Logic. Endurance. Calm. Nowhere in that equation was there room for existential walks on the beach.
But today, he couldn’t help it. He had a lot on his mind.
If he knows about me and hasn’t called himself, then he doesn’t want to talk to me and I should respect his privacy. But what if he doesn’t know? What if he was in the dark like I was?
Round and round the questions looped themselves. No end in sight. Finally, when it got to be too much, Logan did something else out of character. He made a snap decision.
Without giving himself any time to hesitate, he reached down into his pocket and pulled out his phone. A surge of adrenaline raced through him, as his fingers typed in the number.
It rang once. Twice. Three times. Logan was just preparing himself to leave the world’s clumsiest message, when the line opened suddenly to a cheerful voice on the other side.
“Hello?”
Chapter 6
I can’t believe I’m doing this, I can’t believe I’m doing this, I can’t believe—
“Logan?”
Logan whirled around only to come face to face with...himself. It was utterly bizarre. The most surreal moment of his entire life. His only comfort was that ‘himself’ was also stunned.
“Holy shit.” Dylan approached carefully, like at any moment, someone might pull back a curtain and reveal the hidden cameras underneath. “So this wasn’t a joke. We’re really twins. I wasn’t sure if you were screwing with your profile picture. But then again, I knew I was adopted, so I knew it could be true.”
When the two had spoken on the phone the night before, Dylan had been skeptical. He thought his friends were playing a prank on him. The only thing that finally convinced him was when Logan told him to look up Skylight Resorts online. He could see a very professional picture of him. Of course, it was at that moment—in what had to be the worst timing in the world—that Dylan’s phone died, and Logan had to wait on pins and needles for twenty minutes while he located his charger.
“Not a joke,” Logan repeated in as steady a voice as he could manage. “Really twins.”
There was a brief pause, then—
“Dude—that’s fucking AWESOME!”
Before he knew what was happening, the man swooped over and embraced him—lifting him clear off the ground with a whooping cheer. He froze with instant surprise, before clapping his hands slowly down on Dylan’s back, a reluctant half of the world’s most effusive hug.
“How long have you known?” Dylan set him down just as quickly as he’d picked him up, looking him over with sudden interest. “Did your adoptive parents tell you?”
“No, I actually just—”
“Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening!” Dylan interrupted, thrilled beyond all belief. “I was literally about to walk out the door when you called, then—BAM! I have a brother?!”
Logan stared at him curiously. He had never seen such a beaming smile on his own face. A part of him didn’t think he was capable of that kind of brightness. Maybe it was just Dylan.
“Yeah, I know.” He laughed in spite of himself, raking his fingers back through his hair. They didn’t get very far. As usual, it was slicked back to perfection, frozen stiff with gel. Nothing like Dylan’s shaggy beach waves. In all truth, he would have looked much more at home in Florida, while Logan would have fit right in to Cleveland. “It took me a while to process myself.”
“How long?” Dylan asked again, oblivious to the fact that he’d interrupted the first time he’d asked the question. “How long have you known?”
“Not long,” Logan said quickly. “Just a few days. I found out when Evelyn died.”
Dylan’s face blanked and he shook his head. “Who?”
It was like a cold chill descended into Logan’s very bones. His face paled as he stared at his brother—appalled beyond words at his mistake. Of course Dylan didn’t know. With how many places the man had lived in the last eight months alone, it had been hard enough for Logan’s PI to find him. He couldn’t imagine the Wayne County Coroner’s Office had much better luck.
“Um...Evelyn Parker.” He lifted his eyes hesitantly, uncertain how to proceed. “That was the name of our birth mother. I got...I got a notification when she passed away. I guess she wanted us to know about her. I don’t know why she didn’t come forward sooner.”
“My parents told me she was young and her father absolutely refused to let her keep the baby. But I guess it was babies. I didn’t know that part of it. Just that she was young and forced to give up her baby. She was so upset that they had to sedate her afterward.”