CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
While Aaron waited for the police to arrive, he paced the living room. Although every fiber of his being wanted to go searching for Logan, he knew he had to stay put for now.
Pen sat in the living room with him, saying nothing.
"Did he say anything to you?" Aaron asked. "Anything at all?"
Pen shook her head. "Sometimes he'd tell our dad that he'd run away, but that was a long time ago. One time he packed a bag, but when he found out he couldn't take his tablet with him, he changed his mind."
Aaron grunted out a laugh. "How old was he, then?"
"Six? I can't remember."
Aaron kept pacing. In the corner stood the Christmas tree, bright with lights, and he had the sudden urge to toss the damned thing out the window.
Why, Logan? he kept thinking to himself over and over
