El Abrham turned to face Logan fully, his eyes cold yet calculating. "Yes, he did. And he did not regret it. Your father was a strong man, a man with a kind heart. But he..." El Abrham paused, wiping tears from his eyes with the collar of his clothes. Logan observed the moment in silence. Somehow, Logan was starting to believe he was wrong about El Abrham and that he wasn't evil and stronghearted as his mind had concluded so far. Slowly, he got down from the Peugeot and walked to where El Abrham knelt. A surge of willpower he couldn't fathom, enveloped him as he also knelt beside El Abrham. Even though he wasn't sure if to believe El Abrham yet or not, he felt strongly connected to the dilapidated tombstone in front of him. He felt the same way he was feeling when he was with Grandpa Dom at the hospital before he gave up the ghost. His eyes shifted to El Abrham who was still muttering some Arabic supplications amidst sobs he was trying to head back. Logan was not willing to have

“Agh! My lord… it’s me… Tempête,” the man groaned, holding his head. “What has happened to you? You don’t recognize me anymore?” "I'm sorry, Tempête..." Logan muttered, his voice low as his eyes scanned the quiet street. "I didn’t mean to hit you like that. I thought it was someone else" Tempête, still nursing his swollen forehead, quickly shook his head. "Don’t apologize, my lord. Please. Don’t." Logan looked at him, guilt still thick in his chest. "I should be the one apologizing," Tempête continued, his voice shaking slightly. "After I didn't get reinforcements yesterday, I... I didn't know exactly where to look for you. Me and the two pilots… we searched everywhere. Every checkpoint, every alley, every damn street we could find in this bullshit country. But you were gone." Logan said nothing, letting Tempête spill anything he had to say. Tempête’s eyes glassed up a little. "But I saw it. The old car. That black Peugeot. You were inside. Driven off by some old bastard I could

Logan’s jaw tightened. He glanced at the cracked table, then at both of them. “Yvonne,” he said, grinding his teeth.Logan paced the floor like a lion in a cage, his boots hitting the marble with a rhythm that spoke more of confusion than control. Every second, he turned on his heels, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.Madame Amelia sat on the edge of the living room resting sofa, her arms folded tightly against her chest. “I thought… finally, I thought we’d breathe good for once. The moment your identity was cleared—Logan then these people no longer saw you as a bastard. I was happy—and yet, what have we had since? Chaos! Death, kidnappings, betrayals! Not even a month, and peace is already a distant dream we must keep chasing. I’m tired. We are bleeding and—”“Enough.” Tempête’s voice cut clean through the air, sharper than an unsheathed sword. “This is not the time to wail. We don't want to cry? Fine. But let it be after something is done to save Lady Diane. If you don’t