Her smile vanished.
Logan stared at me, the house, then me again.
“What are you doing here?”
I nearly laughed.
“I live here.”
He approached.
“You were supposed to be gone.”
“I changed my mind.”
His mother stepped forward.
“This is still Logan’s house.”
“No,” I said calmly.
“It isn’t.”
Logan frowned and retrieved his keys.
“These are mine.”
I glanced at them.
Then at him.
“Try them.”
He went to the door, inserted his key, and turned it.
Nothing.
He tried again.
The lock wouldn’t move.
His face paled.
