All eyes turned to Logan.
He slowly lifted his gaze, voice calm and even: "Mrs. Perry wanted to celebrate Owen—why did it have to be today?"
Amelia shouted, her voice sharp and defensive: "So what if it's today?! I need your permission to throw a party for Owen?!"
"You do," Logan replied coldly. "You absolutely need to choose the right day."
His towering presence and icy stare bore down on Amelia, stealing the air from her lungs.
For a split second, she felt like she couldn't breathe.
Then Logan's eyes sharpened, deadly.
"Any day would've worked. Just not today."
Amelia hated that look of his more than anything—so cold, so arrogant.
How dare he look down on her like that?
Just like that woman—Anna.
She screamed, "Logan, I'm your mother! Owen is your brother! Even if you don't want to wish him well, how dare you criticize the date I chose?! Who do you think you are—"
"Today is Anna's death anniversary."
Logan cut her off.
