S I X
We continue up the Hudson, never slowing as morning morphs into late afternoon. Logan guns it hard, the roar of the engine ever-present, determined to get as far away from the slaverunners, from Manhattan, as possible. The entire morning I am on edge, looking and listening for any signs of anything.
But after more time passes, I begin to relax. Logan finally slows us just a bit, to cruising mode, and the engine quiets. I look over and see Rose, now fast asleep in Bree’s arms. Bree leans back herself, eyes closed, Penelope in her lap. Ben sits slumped over, head in his hands. And Logan just stares, eyes fixed on the water, expressionless as always. The entire energy on our boat is more relaxed.
Logan slows the boat even more, and I wonder why, when I look out at the water and see h
