Logan eyed Orson's wound with a mix of concern and annoyance. "Who did this to you? Was it that Chad guy?"
Orson didn’t dodge the question. Faced with Logan's mature demeanor, he opted for honesty. "Sorry for dragging you guys into this mess."
"It's not dragging us anywhere."
Logan glanced up with a serious look on his face. "Just... don't let Mom find out you're hurt, alright? She’d just worry herself silly and then insist you stay a few extra days to 'recover'."
"I know."
Orson's voice was rough, betraying his unease. Logan had a clear understanding of the situation. If Matilda decided to have Orson stay longer, it could very well paint a target on her back, compromising her safety.
In Logan's world, his mom, Matilda, came first, no question about it.
So when he told Orson not to linger, what he meant was: heal up and hit the road as soon as you can, try not to bring any trouble to Mom.
Orson got the message but had no comeback.
Logan, wrapping Orson's waist with bandages, was clearly experienced. "You've done this before?"
"No, first time." Logan's response was indifferent, his demeanor unexpectedly reminiscent of Yvan.
Like father, like son – both shared a calm and rational disposition.
"I've told you before."
Finally done with the bandaging, Logan whimsically drew a heart on it with a marker, a mischievous act that almost made Orson smile despite the situation.
"I said, once you're out there, alive or dead, cut all ties with us."
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