I'm sorry for the late update, but writing the chapter took me longer than I expected. (Five pages.) Besides, this will be the last chapter (relax everybody, story isn't over yet) told from a character's point of view. The following chapters will all be written in the third person PoV. And before the long chapter starts, I would like to thank Andrea (guest), NikkiNikki2018, and Winterschild11 for the regular reviews. You guys inspire me and help me stay creative.
Camille
"So … he really did it?" I ask, disappointed.
"Yes," Miss Collins sighs on the phone. "And I can't understand it. I thought you wanted to let me know if something went wrong with the both of you."
"Well ... It's complicated."
"Mmmh ... Ok ... So, of course I can't give you a new partner, but I can put you into another group. How about Jo and Kendall?"
I hesitate. Should I really give up? No, I can't do that. I know I'm on the verge of finally finding out the truth. I just need another chance.
"Wait, Miss Collins. Do you really want to give up on Logan?"
She is silent for several seconds before replying, "No, of course not. I know he has a lot more potential than he shows ... And that he has problems, but doesn't want to accept any help."
"Yes, you are right. I've been watching him over the last few weeks and he seems really serious about the project. Please give me another chance to work with him."
"But what if he doesn't want to?"
"Leave that to me. I promise you that I will not disappoint you."
Logan
I'm home alone, which is more than okay. I'm frustrated and in a bad mood. And my mood doesn't get any better when it suddenly rings at the door, several times in a row, over and over again. I curse irritated and go downstairs. Whoever that is should have a damn good reason to show up here. I open the door. "Hey! What the- ... What are you doing here?"
I can't believe Camille is actually standing in front of me. Why does she have to make it so damn hard for me?
"Are you alone?"
"Yes," I answer. "But ... Hey, what are you doing?"
Without paying any attention to me, she goes into the house and climbs the stairs to my room. Confused, I close the front door and run after her. After I also enter my room, she comes up to me and looks at me seriously. "Did you really think you could get rid of me so easily?"
"I..."
She walks past me, closes the door ... and locks it. Then she gives me a push and I fall backwards on my bed. Is this a fantasy again or a dream? It has to be, because if she's really here, that is far from good. It's dangerous.
She bends over me and kisses me passionately. It's definitely not a dream, because it feels way too good. And that is the problem. It feels too good. I manage to separate my lips from hers and look at her with regret. I want it. I want it so bad. But...
"You can't be here. We cannot do that. It's too dangerous."
"I don't care," she replies, kissing me again...
Camille
"You know ... Every time I heard the girls talking about you at school, I thought they would be lying. But now I have to admit that they actually told the truth."
He turns his head to me and raises an eyebrow. "Well ... Thank you? You weren't too bad either." He winks at me and I have to laugh. "Idiot."
He shrugs and pushes the covers down so that his entire torso can be seen. I think it's unnecessary to say how hot he looks. However, the overall picture is clouded by the bruises on his body. Carefully I stretch out a hand and touch the large bruise on his ribs. He flinches, but then relaxes again.
"Does it hurt?"
He shakes his head. "No ... at least not so much anymore."
"Can I ask you something?"
He bites his lower lip, hesitates. Then he sighs and says, "His name is Charles. He's our stepfather."
Stepfather ... That explains a lot ... but not everything. "What ... what happened to your parents?"
"I'm sure you don't want to hear that."
"Why are you saying that?"
"Because it's my fault that our parents are dead."
I look at him in shock. "No, I can't believe that."
He smiles tormented. "It's true." He's silent for several minutes. And then he tells me his story...
Third person PoV
There was a time when the Mitchell family would never have dared to dream that their harmonious family life would eventually cease to exist. They lived in a small town in Texas and had every reason to be happy. Jeffrey Mitchell was an always friendly, open-minded and caring husband and father. He worked as a doctor for various aid organizations. He loved his work, but unfortunately that also meant that he was often separated from his family for several weeks. His son, Logan, always suffered greatly from the weeks of separation.
Logan was eight years old when he lost his father. Jeffrey had been away from home for six weeks and Logan missed him very much. So he called Jeffrey at his hotel and asked his father to come home. Jeffrey heard the grief in his son's voice and promised him that he would come home the next day ... This had been the last time father and son had spoken to each other. Jeffrey Mitchell never came home.
A call can destroy everything. Joanna Mitchell had to experience this when she was told on the phone that the plane her husband was supposed to be flying home had crashed due to a technical defect. There were no survivors. Fortunately, at the time Joanna received the call, her children were in school and kindergarten. So they didn't have to witness the nervous breakdown of their usually strong mother. But somehow Joanna managed to keep going. Logan and Kiara needed her. Yes, it hurt that she had lost her husband, because he had been the love of her life. She knew there was no one in the world who could ever replace him. But it hurt her even more that her son Logan thought he was responsible for his father's death. She kept telling him it wasn't his fault and told him that Jeffrey had called her a few days before his death and told her he was coming home earlier. When Logan called him, he had already planned to come back the next day. But to make his son happy, he pretended to come back only because Logan wanted it.
It took them a while, but at some point the life of the small family went on. There were many hard days, but also days when they could laugh again. Four years passed when their life changed for the second time. Logan and Kiara were twelve and eight years old when Joanna met Charles Anderson, a successful businessman. They got along well with each other and even had some dates … although neither Logan nor Kiara were particularly impressed by him. He was always nice to them, but somehow the children could feel that something was wrong with him. But on the other hand, they didn't want to disappoint their mother. A year later, Joanna and Charles were married. Logan was angry about it and he couldn't understand how his mother could do such a thing. More and more often there was an argument with his mother, until one day she had a breakdown during an argument with him and had to be taken to the hospital. There she finally told him the truth. She told him that she had known for a long time that she was sick and that there was no way out. She knew she was going to die. So she married Charles to make sure that after her death someone would be there for Logan and Kiara. As their stepfather, he was able to ensure that the two children were not separated from each other and could continue to live together as a family. Joanna Mitchell, who was always strong, always fun-loving and so full of love, lost the battle against the disease after another year.
From that day on, nothing was as it used to be for Logan and Kiara. Charles took care of it. After all the formalities had been clarified after Joanna's funeral, he finally showed his true face. And it was the face of a monster. He forced Logan and Kiara to move with him to Los Angeles, forced them to call him "Dad" and pretend to be a normal family.
Camille
"Logan ... This is ... I'm so sorry."
He nods slowly and wipes tears from his face.
"But there are still a few things I don't understand."
He looks at me questioningly. His eyes are dark.
"You said it was your fault that your parents died, but that's not true."
He smiles humorlessly. "Charles told me the truth shortly after Mom's funeral. He said she told him about our dad and how bad his death was for me. So she told me that he wanted to come home anyway and she asked Charles to do the same. He laughed when he told me. My mom lied to me to protect me. And even though she pretended everything was fine, she never got over the loss of Dad and it was even worse for her that I was the one to blame. That's why she got sick. It was too much for her."
"And … he laughed … while he told you that?"
He nods. "Yes. He said that I would be a danger to all who are close to me. That's why he-" He abruptly breaks off.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Come on. Tell me."
He bites his lower lip and points to his bruises. My breath stops and the image of Logan standing injured on my doorstep comes back to my mind. "Why did he do that?"
"Because he wanted to make sure that I wouldn't get wrong thoughts about you."
"Does that mean it's my fault that he did that to you?" I ask, horrified. He shakes his head. "Of course not."
"What about your black eye? Was he responsible for it?"
"Yes."
"Why are you letting this happen? Why don't you ask for help? I know Miss Collins-"
He waves off impatiently, gets up from the bed and walks over to the window. The sight of him looking out of the window, lost in thoughts, dressed only in his boxers, is breathtaking.
"She's a good teacher. The only one who wants to help me. But I wish she wouldn't."
"Why?"
"Because she has no idea what could happen."
"Does she know that Charles is your stepfather?"
"Of course, that's not a secret. It's in the documents."
"But-"
"You don't understand the situation. I don't care about Charles. But I care about Kiara. And that's the problem."
"You're right. I don't understand."
He sighs. "If I tell anyone what Charles is doing to us, we will be taken away from him. Since we no longer have parents, we would come into the care of the state. I'm sixteen, in two years I will be eighteen. It will be difficult, if not impossible, to find a foster family to deal with it. So I would probably end up in an orphanage, at least until I'm eighteen. And if it was just about me, I wouldn't care. But Kiara is twelve. She needs people who take good care of her, she needs a family. And I know that would be a much better life for her. But ... I can't lose her. She's the only reason I'm still alive. She has done so much for me. She lost her parents, she needed me, but it was always the other way around. When I had my worst phase, she was there for me. She helps me when I'm injured, takes care of me. That is so wrong. I should be the one who takes care of her. I'm the worst big brother in the world."
I can no longer bear to see him standing there so sad and lonely. I also get up, go to him, and put my arms around him. "I'm sure she doesn't see it that way."
"I hope so. Because without her, I would be alone."
"You're not alone, Logan," I say softly. He looks me in the eye, hesitates. Then he finally lets his guard down, presses his face against my shoulder, and sobs. I hold him, whisper to him that I'm there for him, that there is still hope. I'm not sure what we are right now. Friends? More than friends? A couple? Well, he finally trusts me and that's all that matters at the moment.