My mind races as I stare at Logan lying on the floor, blood pooling around him. It’s like a nightmare. The room spins, and I grab onto the edge of the table for support, trying to steady myself. I should do something—call for help, scream, anything—but my body won’t move. I’m frozen, watching helplessly as the man I just told I hated clings to life."Logan..." I whisper, my voice trembling. He doesn’t respond; his eyes are barely open, and his breath is shallow. Panic sets in as I realize how dire the situation is. I drop to my knees beside him, my hands hovering over his chest, unsure of what to do. The blood is everywhere, staining my hands as I press down, trying to stop the bleeding. But it’s too much, too fast."Stay with me, Logan. Please," I plead, tears streaming down my face. My anger, my hatred—all of it fades away in the face of this brutal reality. All I want is for him to live. "Don’t you dare die on me. Not like this."His eyes flicker as if he’s trying to say somet
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