"Some times back then," was the only thing Maxwell managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was dragging the words out of a locked chest.
His lips trembled around the words, and when they left him, he felt emptier than before, as if something sacred had been torn out of him.
"Just that?" Logan asked, studying him carefully, his tone light but carrying weight.
His brows furrowed slightly, a shadow forming over his face.
He tilted his head, searching Maxwell's eyes as though trying to peel back the layers he was hiding behind.
Maxwell nodded, exhaling a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
The air left him shaky, his chest rising and falling too fast. He lowered his eyes quickly, unable to meet Logan's steady gaze.
The subject pressed on his chest like a stone, and he had no strength left to carry it further.
