Logan Mitchell doesn't have an easy life and it has been that way since he was born. As a baby, he wasn't nearly as big or heavy as his parents - or the hospital staff - would have liked it. Still, he was in the world, he was breathing, he was alive. And the doctors assured his parents that he would develop into a normal child in no time, there was no doubt about that . . . they were wrong.

Although baby Logan often showed signs of obvious medical discomfort, he hardly ever cried. And this fact seemed to frighten his parents even more. Their baby was different, they realized that very quickly. Their baby was special, and they loved him even more for that.

And there was still hope that everything would turn out well, everything would become normal, and he would have a happy childhood and a happy life. But as confident as this hope was at the beginning, it became more desperate as time went on. Logan became a child, but things didn't change.

He got sick way more often than other kids, could never run as fast or as long as them, got tired and exhausted much more quickly than they did. Which inevitably led to him having no friends in the neighborhood or at pre-school. He often asked his parents why he was so different, why he wasn't normal. They couldn't give him an answer, so they tried to find an answer for themselves.

But no matter how many times Logan went to the doctors, they couldn't find anything out of the ordinary and kept saying that it would grow out over the years. And the parents believed them, wanted to believe them so badly, but the doubts remained.

And then, at the age of three and a half, Logan came down with a flu that almost took his life. Now there was no more false hope for his parents, they would find out what was wrong with their son. However, the hoped-for support was very limited. Not a single doctor seemed to want to deal with their unusual problem; after all, it was far easier to reassure the parents that something like this was completely normal and that there was no need to worry, or simply blame the parents for Logan's condition. They were almost at the end of their strength until Jeffrey Mitchell made a last ditch effort and wrote a letter to his old mentor asking for help.

Dr. Gregory Grey, who specializes in unusual illnesses, immediately rushed to help his former protegee. Unlike all the other doctors before him, he seemed genuinely interested in Logan, understanding the parents' worries and fears and promised to help. This started a phase in Logan's life that was overshadowed by countless medical tests, and the constant smell of disinfectants.

Dr. Grey and his team researched for a year until they finally came to a conclusion that would finally seal Logan Mitchell's fate. He didn't understand everything from what the doctor tried to explain to him, but his parents understood even more. Now they knew what was causing their son's suffering. He wouldn't die from it, but a normal life was still unthinkable for him. They were sure things couldn't get any worse . . . but they were wrong.


"I was five when I got my diagnosis. I didn't understand everything back then, but that didn't really matter. I always knew that I was different, that there was something wrong with me." Logan was still sitting on Camille's bed, but his back was now leaning against the headboard of the bed. His arms were wrapped around his body, as if he were freezing. Camille sat close to him and listened attentively.

"It was actually the worst time ever to experience something like that. Because just a few days ago, on my fifth birthday, I took a trip to the lake with my parents. I felt good that day and was even strong enough to climb one of the trees. We stayed there all day, had a picnic, and my mom told me that she . . . that she was pregnant, and I was going to be a big brother soon."

Camille frowned. Logan had a younger sibling? No, he would have told her about that a long time ago. Unless . . . A dark foreboding rose within her, and without really noticing it, she snuggled closer to Logan, as if she could somehow ward off his next words.

"A few weeks after my diagnosis I got a bad ear infection with a high fever. And although Dr. Grey and his team did everything for me, the odds were anything but in my favor. I remember how worried and desperate my parents were, even though they tried to keep it a secret from me. My mom quickly became overwhelmed with the whole situation . . . and . . . I'm sure she didn't do it on purpose, but . . . she just couldn't concentrate on anything else, she was so scared for me. She stopped going to work, just sat by my bed, day and night, holding my hand, reading to me, comforting me when the pain got too much . . . and she . . . she lost it . . . she lost the baby."

"Oh my . . ." Camille's dark premonition now became a cruel certainty. She looked at his face, whiter and paler than she had ever seen it before.

"The . . . the cruel irony of this story is that . . . shortly after the miscarriage, my condition began to improve. The fever went down. It was as if only one of us could survive, and my sibling had sacrificed themselves to give me life."

"Logan . . ." Camille began, although she didn't know what to say.

"But it was wrong. I was wrong. This should never have happened. I should never have happened. It was the wrong order. My sibling should have been born first, so my parents would have at least one healthy child. Or maybe I shouldn't have been born at all, then my parents would have a happy life with their healthy and perfect child. It was my fault. If I hadn't gotten sick, my mother wouldn't have . . . I was responsible for it, and I still am. I'm the reason why my family is so fragile. I cause them nothing but grief, they could have been happy. But I prevented that. I'm not a good person. I'm a monster."

"Don't say that," Camille replied, and straightened up. She wrapped her arms around his shaking body. "Logan, what you just told me is tragic, but it is certainly not your fault. I mean, you didn't choose to be sick, did you? Fate didn't mean well to you, but there's nothing you could do about it. And please, never say again that you are not a good person, because you are. You are the best and most loving person I have ever met. You have so much love inside of you, someone like you can't be a monster."

Tears were streaming down his face. She carefully placed his head on her shoulder, where he pressed his face against her neck and cried like a little child while she held and comforted him.


At some point they fell asleep tightly wrapped in each other. At least until the moment Camille was woken up in the night by noises from outside. It took her a moment to realize that it was raining. This made the air feel thinner and Camille shivered slightly. So she rolled over to the side to warm herself against Logan's body, but the other side of her bed was empty. She opened her eyes and looked around. When she saw the figure at the window, she was startled for a moment, but then she realized that it was Logan, standing there at the window and looking out into the night. Camille turned on her bedside lamp, then slid off the bed and walked over to Logan. He didn't react as she wrapped her arms around him and snuggled into him. His body no longer had any warmth from the bed, which told her he must have been standing here for a while.

"Is everything okay?" she asked quietly and gave him a kiss on the back of his neck. He didn't answer. So she didn't push him and waited patiently for him to say something. Which finally happened, after what felt like an eternity.

"It is fascinating, isn't it?"

"What is fascinating?"

"The rain. Many people can't stand rain, but . . . it's special. Especially at night. They just don't see it, don't know it."

Camille sighed internally. Logan was caught in one of his moods again. Maybe this always happened when he was previously exposed to some kind of emotional stress. At least that would be a logical explanation for her that she could come to terms with. Although she had to admit that his strange moods could be a little scary at times.

"People go to work, go to school, experience a lot in their everyday lives, problems accumulate. And when it starts to rain, many people think their day can't get any worse. But they don't understand that the rain doesn't want to annoy them, it wants to help them. These people wander through the streets until they finally return home. However, their problems remain outside. And at night, when they sleep, the rain is still there, washing the streets, washing away all the problems, giving people the opportunity to start anew the next day. When I was younger, I wished so often that the rain would come and would wash away all my problems and I would wake up the next morning and everything was good. But it never happened. And yet I never stopped listening to the rain at night."

"It will happen," Camille said quietly. "One day it will happen."

Logan turned to her, looked at her thoughtfully, then shook his head. "No, it won't happen. Because it already did."

"So you've found your happy ending after all?"

"Yes. Because I found you. You are my fresh start, my chance for a better life."

"Logan . . ." she whispered softly, and he placed a hand on her cheek, kissing her lovingly.

And so, they just stood there, in the middle of the night, and listened to the rain that was falling from the sky.