"Logan!"
His name broke through the noise, a familiar cry that pierced straight into his chest.
He turned, barely in time to catch sight of his mother, Martha Kingsley, sprinting toward him with tears streaming down her face.
Her coat flapped behind her, her hair messy for hours… days of restless worry. But none of that mattered now.
"My son!" she choked, breathless.
Logan didn't have time to react before her arms wrapped around him with a force that made him stumble.
"M-Mom?" he whispered, a bit stunned.
She didn't let go. Her fingers clawed into his back like she was terrified he might disappear again. "You're alive… you're really here. My boy…"
Behind her, Hannah, his younger sister, arrived… panting, eyes red. "Logan, oh my god… Logan!"
And then Henry, his longtime assistant and the man who'd kept the Kingsley family from falling apart while Logan was gone, jogged up. He didn't speak… just exhaled sharply, relief washing over his face.
