Harper had never hated silence as much as she did that morning. The quiet that used to bring her peace—pages turning in the library, the soft hum of the campus fountain, even the whisper of leaves outside—now felt suffocating. It was as if the world had turned its back on her, and the absence of Logan's presence pressed down on her chest like a weight she couldn't shake.
He hadn't shown up anywhere. Not in the lecture halls, not in the cafeteria, not even by that the hallways where he acted like he owned the whole of campus. She had swallowed her pride—something she rarely did—and cornered Eric and Kennedy between classes.
"Have you seen Logan?" she'd asked, her voice a little too desperate, too raw.
Both boys had exchanged a look, one of those silent conversations that screamed louder than words. Kennedy shook his head. "No idea. Haven't heard from him."
Eric shrugged, though his gaze lingered on her as if he wanted to say more. But in the end, he only muttered, "Sorry, Harper."
