Pauline's POV
Sleep refused to come. His words from the night before played on repeat in my mind, each syllable carving deeper into my consciousness. The confession hung in the air like smoke, suffocating and inescapable. My chest burned with a mixture of old pain and something dangerously close to hope.
I shifted restlessly in the darkness, being careful not to wake Echo who lay curled between us. The silence stretched until I finally found the nerve to look at him.
At first glance, Logan appeared peaceful in sleep. But as I studied his face more closely, alarm bells started ringing in my head. His skin held an unhealthy flush, and perspiration beaded along his temples despite the cool night air. When I pressed my palm to his forehead, my stomach dropped. The heat radiating from his skin was intense, far worse than it had been yesterday.
I jerked my hand back. How had his condition deteriorated so rapidly overnight?
