Logan's POV
The warm water cascaded over my hands as I scrubbed the final dish clean, steam rising from the basin and mixing with the lingering aroma of our simple lunch. Ginny's gentle voice drifted through the kitchen air, carrying notes of worry that she couldn't quite mask.
"Are you managing well, dear?" she inquired, her motherly concern evident as she watched me work at the sink.
I offered what I hoped was a reassuring nod, though the persistent headache that had plagued me since dawn continued its relentless assault. "Everything's fine, Ginny," I responded, attempting to inject casualness into my tone. Perhaps I could fool others, but her perceptive gaze saw through my facade.
