Logan
The report sat unopened on my desk for a full hour before I touched it again.
Not because I doubted what was inside. I didn’t. I’d read it twice already the night before, memorized the sequence of events, the files, the log trails Emily had laid out perfectly.
She hadn’t missed a detail. That was what made it worse.
She’d done it all without me. And in spite of my doubt.
I was supposed to be the one protecting her. From the nobles. From my staff. From the vultures circling for a scandal.
Instead, I’d stood there—arms crossed, voice flat—and made her prove herself. Because I wasn’t sure I believed her.
Because part of me, the cold, calculating part, had whispered: If she’s guilty, don’t let her drag you down too.
I rubbed a hand over my jaw, trying to clear the guilt from m
