Ella
The frosted glass door to Mr. Henderson’s office opened, revealing the man himself.
Upon seeing Logan, I felt Ema’s restlessness inside of me. His scent overwhelmed the both of us, instinct urging us to overreact and move closer to him. But I felt her suppress it. She was just as displeased with him as I was.
Mr. Henderson looked jovial and appeared to be in the midst of a spirited discussion with Logan. However, as I stood in the doorway and looked back and forth between the two men, I could sense a shift in the dynamic. Behind Mr. Henderson’s pleasant exterior, his eyebrows were knit tightly together and his eyes flashed with anxiety.
“Ella,” he began, his voice tight. “Can I have a word?”
Logan reclined comfortably on the plush couch, looking surprisingly unperturb
