3 days later *Logan* “Sit down Logan ... you are stressing everyone”. Jax says pointing to the couch. “No one is going to hurt her”. “What if they ... if she gets upset ? If they ask her something bad, about me or about Ryan ?” I sit down, but feel how my food kinda bounces. Jax sighs. “She can handle herself, Hadley is a strong girl ...”. “Could we ... not call her a girl? It kinda makes her seem so young”. I mumble cutting him off. “... and she has Marshall with her”. He gives me a look. “Logan ... She is young, you have to come to terms with that. There is nothing wrong in your relationship, but if you want others to accept it, you need to first”. I breathe in slowly, dammit he is right. She needs me to be there fully and to be that I need to stop obsessing about the age thing. How do I expect others to be okay with it if I am not even okay with it myself ? “You are right Jax”. I nod. “We are both adults, we love each other and we have chosen to be together ... it is no on

*Hadley* I watch Jax grow pale as he talks on the phone, for some reason it makes my stomach knot up and I just know something bad has happened. As soon as he moves the phone from his ear I am over him. “Jax, what is it .. it’s Logan right ?” “Yeah”. He swallows hard as he nods. “Shit ! It seems he was attacked by three guys in the parking lot … he was trying to defend someone … he got beaten pretty badly”. “Was that him calling ? Do we need to pick him up somewhere ?” I feel panic rise inside and an instant need to hold Logan or to be in his arms. Jax breathes out slowly, his eyes shifting to AJ and then back to me. “Hadley, it wasn’t Logan ... he ... he can’t call ...”. A weird sound escapes his throat and I realise it's a sob. “It’s very bad sweetie, he is in a coma”. “No ...”. The panic explodes through my mouth in the form of hyperventilating gasps. “We need to go, I need to see him”. AJ instantly is beside me, holding me, which is good, because elseway I would probably

*Logan* I remember the pain ... then darkness and I wonder if I am dead ... it is warm and nice, and suddenly I realize I am wandering through a sunny wheat field. My fingers are slowly running through the plants. This doesn’t look like Texas, more like ... Iowa or something, or I guess, even though I am not sure. But then I remember her Hadley. I need to find Hadley, my mate, my love and I start desperately searching for a way out of the field, but it seems to just go on forever. The wind is picking up and clouds gathering on the blue skies ... like nature itself is angry with me for wanting to leave. I don't know what it is or why, but I feel like something is coming ... not really like evil, but something I do not want to meet with, so I start walking faster and faster until I am running, feeling chased by ... what ... the wind, a feeling. Am I going crazy here ? My mind is trying to figure out what happened. I had been doing that interview, and it had honestly been rather h

*Hadley* I'm sitting in the familiar, comforting living room of Logan’s house, the soft hum of the studio lights above creating a hushed unfamiliar atmosphere. The iconic TV host, Diane, is across from me, her presence both reassuring and daunting. I have agreed to do this interview on condition of it being shot here in our home, I did not want to fly to New York, mostly because I do not want to be that far away from Zayden, or leave him for that long. Jax and AJ are positioned just off-camera, something they both demanded, vigilant guardians in this vulnerable moment. Marshall is in the hospital with Logan. Blue is a warm, comforting weight against my side on the couch, his presence a silent support. Diane’s voice, gentle yet probing, breaks the momentary silence. “Hadley, the world has been holding its breath ever since the news broke about Logan. Can you share with us how he is now?” I draw in a deep breath, feeling the weight of the question. “Logan is still in a coma,” I b

*Hadley* I am back at the hospital, sitting in the dimly lit hospital room, the soft beeps and whirs of machines composing a symphony of dread. The sterile scent of antiseptics does little to mask the underlying odor of despair that seems to cling to the walls. Logan, lies motionless on the bed, his once vibrant face pale and drawn, a stark contrast to the fierce, unyielding spirit he possesses. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest is the only indication that life still clings to him, albeit by a thread. I reach out, my hand trembling as I brush a lock of hair from his forehead. His skin is cool under my touch, and I suppress a shiver. "Logan," I whisper, my voice breaking the oppressive silence. "Please, you have to fight this. You can't leave me alone." But he remains unresponsive, seemingly locked in a battle I cannot see, fighting demons in a realm I cannot reach. I had asked the nurse, because the last couple of days he has seemed to fade away i stead of getting better. But