Martha cupped his face, forcing him to look at her through the tears streaming down his cheeks.
"No. Don't you dare say that, Logan Kingsley. Jean is stronger than that. She's not gone, do you hear me?" Her own voice wavered, but she refused to let him drown in despair. "She loves you. I've seen it. She wouldn't give up like that… not on you, not on herself."
Logan's shoulders shook uncontrollably as he buried his face against her shoulder, his sobs tearing from his chest like open wounds. Martha held him tightly, stroking his back the way she did when he was a boy, whispering desperate reassurances he barely heard.
But even as she comforted him, her eyes glistened with worry. A mother's intuition screamed at her that something truly was wrong… that Jean wasn't safe.
Martha kept holding him, her hand smoothing over his trembling back. She whispered, "Breathe, Logan. Just breathe."
