Previously . . . She had meant to get over here sooner, see how her brother was doing in his new place, the one that doesn’t include turndown service and 24-hour meal delivery. Bring him a potted plant or some equally lame house-warming present
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Logan answers the door, and it's clear he's just gotten back from the beach. Sandy footprints covered the entrance to the apartment, and his board was visible on the back deck.
He actually grins at Trina. "Hey! Come to check out the new place? I actually have dishes now, isn't that cool?"
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"Logan, I've got very . . . strange news for you."
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Judging by that failed grin, he probably should be sitting down for this, at least.
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It's a nice futon. Really.
Trina gives her brother a weak sort of smile. "I am going to be such shit at telling you this.
"Logan, they've found Lynn."
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"How- Where - wha- how'd they know? I mean, there can't -" He swallows hard, and looks about six years old, sitting there gazing at his big sister. "There can't be much. Can there."
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Trina sighs.
"Logan . . . shit. They said she only died about a year ago. And that she hadn't been the water."
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Then the last part of what she said hits him, and his face sort of...crumples.
"What?"
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He looks at her, something plaintive and very, very young in his eyes. "I saw her fall, Trina, and the car, and it just - it just can't be."
Can it? Did she really get away?
Hope on this particular issue has been dead a long time for Logan, and it's nearly impossible to resurrect it at this late date.
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Trina spreads her hands, a little helplessly.
"I don't know, Logan. I just . . . I really didn't want you to learn all this on CNN."
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If they were a normal family, he'd probably hug her right now. Or she'd hug him. But then, if they were a normal family, they wouldn't be in this situation, would they?
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