after they met her

fiftyseven

i v a n a

Logan was the first to move, his sudden action pulling me out of the spiral I was falling into. The warmth of his touch didn't remind me of that night. It felt safe, grounding. For a moment, it was like the world stopped spinning, and all I could feel was his hand on my arm, pulling me back from the edge.

His arms enveloped me, and I melted into him, the weight of his embrace so familiar. I hadn't been part of this family for long, but Logan had quickly taken on the role of the typical older brother.

He teased me endlessly, yet he loved having me around. He sometimes took his role too seriously, but now I didn't mind anymore. I loved making him proud.

Like the time he taught me how to fish, and the smile he gave me when I finally reeled one in—it made me feel like I belonged. Even though we hadn't grown up together, I had come to rely on him.

He was strong and reliable.

Now, it felt different.

His arms shook as they held me, and I couldn't tell if he was crying or if he was angry—or maybe both.

Logan held my face between his trembling hands, his rough thumbs wiping away the tears that wouldn't stop. His eyes, wide and searching, locked onto mine, as if he were looking for something, some answer, some explanation.

"It's me," he whispered, his voice breaking. He paused, unable to say anything else at first. His eyes were full of disbelief, as though he couldn't reconcile what he was seeing with the sister he used to know. "It's just me, Ivana."

"I-," I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat. Tears streamed down my face, unstoppable, as I gazed into the face of my brother. "I know, Logan."

And then, without thinking, I threw myself into his arms, hugging him as if my life depended on it. I clung to him with everything I had, my arms wrapped so tightly around his body that it felt like if I let go, I would be lost again. I sobbed, the sound of it raw and broken, and all the walls I'd built up, all the strength I pretended to have, crumbled in that moment.

I buried my face into his shoulder, my tears soaking into his shirt, as heart-wrenching sobs tore out of me. I wept, losing every ounce of pride, of control. I didn't care. I couldn't stop. The grief, the fear, the horror of everything that had happened poured out of me again, and all I could do was hold onto Logan like he was the only thing tethering me to the earth.

"No one's going to hurt you here. I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry." His voice was soft, shaky, as he rocked us back and forth, his arms around me like they were trying to shield me from everything that had happened.

As Logan held me in his arms, his body started to shake. At first, I thought it was just from the adrenaline. Then I realized—it wasn't that. He was crying. He pulled me closer, burying his face in my shoulder as well, and his voice broke when he spoke.

"I should've never let you go," he whispered, his words ragged with emotion. "I should've held on to you... I'm so sorry, Ivana." His grip tightened around me, his hands trembling. "I promised I'd protect you... and I didn't."

I could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breath uneven. He kept repeating himself, his voice cracking more each time. "I should've been there, I should've been stronger. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..." His apologies melted into sobs, and I could feel his tears soaking into my clothes.

He held me like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go, and all I could do was hold him tighter.

He didn't stop apologizing. Over and over, he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His breath was shaky against my ear, and I could feel his chest rising and falling in uneven beats.