My Sister Owed Him Two Hundred Thousand

Leighton’s thumb hovered over the answer button. Her eyes snagged on the name lighting up the screen, and an uneasy tightness cinched around her chest. Hospital calls were rare. When they came, they rarely brought good news.

Logan killed the music and pulled over to the shoulder. The cabin went dead quiet, save for the rhythmic swish of the wipers.

Leighton finally picked up. The nurse’s voice was sharp with urgency.

“Leighton? Your mother’s taken a turn. We need another payment.”

Her grip tightened around the phone. “How much?”

“Eighty thousand.”

Eighty thousand. The number hit her like a tidal wave. She’d just had a two-hundred-thousand-dollar burden dumped on her, and now another eighty?

Leighton forced her voice steady. “I’ll find a way by tomorrow morning. Can you hold it until then?”

The nurse sighed and told her to hurry. When the call ended, silence swallowed the car whole.

Logan held out a credit card. “Take it.”

Leighton shook her head. “I don’t need it.”

His words were blunt enough to cut. “You’re out of money.”

She met his gaze, defiant. “Just because I’m broke doesn’t mean I want your charity.”

Logan held the card between two fingers, unmoved. He’d dealt with stubborn before. But the kind of resilience Leighton had—the kind that dug in even when she had nothing left—he’d only seen once.

Years ago, a little girl stood outside a burning building, face streaked with soot, holding on to a boy much heavier than she was. Ambulance lights flashed red and blue across her face. She clung to him, one arm burned, refusing to let go. When they tried to pull her to safety, she asked only one thing. “Will he live?” Those eyes—God, they were the same. Unyielding.

Logan blinked back to the present and set the card on the console between them. “You don’t have to take it.”

“When you change your mind, it’s there.”

Leighton’s head snapped toward him. “Logan, just because I agreed to your three-month arrangement doesn’t mean you get to run my life.”

Logan watched her for a beat, then—unexpectedly—laughed. “You like your boundaries.”

She didn’t answer.

He pocketed the card. “All right.”

“We’ll do this your way.”

He restarted the engine. Leighton assumed they were headed to the hospital. Instead, they pulled up in front of the dorms.

A crowd was already waiting at the entrance. The forum gossip had blown up fast. Jeremy stood in the middle of it, polished and polite as ever.

Leighton unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the door. Logan kept the locks down.

She turned on him. “Open it.”

Logan gave her a lazy once-over. “You plan to face them alone?”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

He popped the lock and got out with her. The crowd went quiet. Phones shot up.

Leighton hated the scrutiny—the feeling of being picked apart by a hundred eyes.

Jeremy walked over, glanced at Logan, then fixed his attention on her.

“Leighton, can we talk?”

She didn’t give him an inch. “We have nothing to talk about.”

Jeremy’s expression flickered. “I was harsh this morning.”

“But if you’re just trying to make me jealous by hanging around Logan, it’s unnecessary.”

It sounded like an apology. It wasn’t. The implication was clear: she’d been rejected, so now she was using Logan to make him jealous.

Leighton stared at him. The humiliation from this morning had been pointless—especially for Jazlyn’s sake.

“Jeremy.”

“First, I didn’t write the letter.”

The crowd held its breath.

“Second, I don’t like you.”

Jeremy’s face darkened.

“Third, being turned down by you doesn’t matter to me.”

A laugh rippled through the crowd.

Jeremy’s smile strained. “Then why did you confess?”

Leighton opened her mouth, but Logan pulled her in close, his hand firm on her back. His presence was overwhelming—like a shadow of authority falling over the whole courtyard.

“Whatever she does is none of your business.”

Jeremy squared up. “Logan, I was only concerned.”

Logan smirked. “Your concern was missing this morning when you humiliated her.”

Jeremy’s expression soured. “That was a misunderstanding.”

Logan pulled the pale pink note from his pocket. “You didn’t even read it before you accused her of putting on a show.”

“Jeremy, you really do love your dramatics.”

Someone in the crowd muttered a stunned curse.

Jeremy’s face fell.

Leighton glanced at Logan. “Give it back.”

He looked down at her. “You want it now?”

“That belongs to my sister.”

Logan’s gaze darkened, but he handed it over. She shoved it deep into her bag.

Jeremy pressed on. “Even if the letter wasn’t yours, what’s going on with you and Logan?”

“A word of advice.”

“Logan’s just playing around.”

It sounded like a caution. It was a warning, wrapped in condescension.

Before Leighton could fire back, Logan let out a soft chuckle. “I’m just hoping she’ll play me.”

The crowd went dead silent.

Leighton stiffened.

Logan leaned in, his voice low enough for only her. “Third rule—no denying.”

She gritted her teeth and swallowed the retort.

His gaze swept the crowd. “Listen up.”

“She’s under my protection now.”

A hush fell over everyone.

Leighton’s heart pounded. She knew exactly what kind of chaos those words would unleash. Sure enough, within seconds, whispers and camera shutters erupted.

Someone brought up the two hundred thousand.

Hushed murmurs followed—about Leighton selling herself.

Logan’s voice cut through the noise. “Anyone else who talks trash about my girlfriend will find out how ugly things can get.”

Everything went silent.

Jeremy’s face was thunderous.

Logan tossed out one last line. “Leave her alone.”

“She doesn’t need your so-called concern.”

Since when had she become the timid one?

Unable to face the humiliation, Jeremy turned and walked off, the crowd trailing after him.

But Leighton knew the forums wouldn’t quiet down tonight.

She turned toward the dormitory.

Logan caught the strap of her backpack.

Leighton turned, her gaze cooling.

He didn’t touch her again. Instead, he handed her a card with nothing but a number on it.

“I’ve arranged for the hospital to hold off on the payment until morning.”

Leighton froze.

Logan pulled his hand back. “Find a way to pay. But don’t meet with just anyone.”

His tone carried a warning he didn’t spell out.

“What do you mean?”

Logan glanced at her phone. “You’ll have visitors tonight.”

“Don’t go alone.”

Unease settled low in her stomach.

Before she could ask more, Logan was already back in his car.

Once the car disappeared, Leighton headed up to her dorm. The door creaked open. Silence fell. Her three roommates eyed her warily.

One girl sneered. “Leighton, keeping secrets now, are we?”

“Jeremy this morning, Logan tonight—quite the busy day.”

Leighton set down her bag. “What are you implying?”

The girl crossed her arms. “The forum is blowing up, and you’re pretending it’s nothing?”

Another roommate shoved her phone in Leighton’s face. A new thread had overtaken the old one.

[Logan Jackson declares: Leighton Turner is under his care.]

Below it, someone had dug up her whole life. A gambler father, a terminally ill mother, a sister with heart problems, a convenience-store job.

But it was the last line that sent a chill down her spine.

[No wonder this kind of family clings to wealth.]

Staring at the words, a cold fury simmered in her chest.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed. An unknown number flashed across the screen with a text.

[Want the eighty thousand? Meet at The Nightfall Club.]

[Don’t tell Logan Jackson.]

Leighton stared at the message, Logan’s earlier warning echoing in her head.

Then another message popped up—a photo.

Jazlyn sat in the hospital hallway, pale as a ghost. Behind her stood someone wearing a pearl bracelet.