« Fridge, sweetheart. Second shelf. »
He poured a glass and squinted at Logan.
He wasn’t wrong.
« Dad, are you picking me up from practice today? »
« Can’t, buddy. I’ve got a late meeting. »
Noah shrugged and wandered off toward the living room.
Logan watched him leave, his mouth pressed into a line that didn’t match his tone.
« Everything okay? » I asked.
« Course. Just tired. You know how it is. »
« Everything okay? »