Logan

Logan and Judith grew up on the same streets, scraped knees and endless summers as their witnesses. For him, Jud was always part of the scenery: the girl who knew where they hid when they played, the one who understood his silences and would hand him a drink without question when something was wrong. A sister, that's what he believed.

For Judith, however, Logan was always something more. She never said anything. She learned to be content with being near, with being the place he unconsciously returned to. Because Logan had a girlfriend, although their relationship seemed like a poorly assembled puzzle: constant arguments, long absences, and forced smiles. And every time everything fell apart, Logan came back to Judith, as if the world calmed down when he was with her.

They sat and talked about anything and everything, as always. But something had changed. Logan was starting to notice details that had previously gone unnoticed: the way Judith looked at him when she thought he wasn't looking, how easy it was to breathe next to her, how much he trusted her without thinking. He wasn't so sure anymore that he saw her only as the little girl who had grown up with him.

Judith was still there, just as she always had been, though inside she was torn between what she felt and what she'd never dared to ask for. Maybe things were changing. Maybe not. But for the first time, Logan was beginning to wonder why, of all places, he always ended up coming back to her.