Page 29 of Rhythm Of Redemption

Lou pursed her lips. It was like trying to get blood out of a stone.

Lou's hands moved methodically, swirling the soapy water around the dinner plates as she engaged in a conversation with Logan. “Did you notice how she always confuses Bs and Ds?” She vented her frustration about Dani's persistent struggle with letter confusion. “No matter how many times we’ve been over it, it just doesn't seem to stick.”

Logan paused, his eyes reflecting a hint of understanding. “It's a common issue for people with dyslexia. I still struggle with it myself.”

Lou's grip faltered, causing the plate to slip from her fingers, creating a small tidal wave of soapy water and sending bubbles flying through the air. Startled, she quickly regained her composure. “Dani's not dyslexic,” she stated firmly, her tone laced with surprise and confusion.

Logan nodded, waiting patiently for another plate to be handed to him. “Oh, sorry. I thought she was.”

Curiosity sparked within Lou, and she couldn't help but delve a little deeper. “What made you think that? Is there something I'm missing?”

Logan's response was apologetic. “I just assumed. I didn't mean to offend anyone.”

Lou shrugged, the words carrying a mix of indifference and curiosity. “I'm not offended, just curious why you thought she was dyslexic.”

“I couldn't help but notice that Dani struggles with some of the same things I did back in school … well, that I still struggle with,” Logan confessed, his voice hinting at vulnerability.

Lou stopped what she was doing, her gaze shifting towards Logan as he delved into his past. She could sense the weight of his memories, his eyes momentarily distant, as if transported to another time and place.

“I remember my maths teacher,” Logan continued a touch of sadness in his tone. “He was a real bastard to me. Always singling me out, belittling me, and reminding me of my supposed stupidity. He'd mock me for the money my parents were wasting in sending me there, telling me I should stop being so lazy and put in the work.”

A bitter chuckle escaped him, laced with a hint of pain. “That man, I swear he made it his personal mission to turn every single day I spent in that prison-like school into a living nightmare. I despised him with every fibre of my being.”

She remained silent, allowing the weight of Logan's words to settle in the air. In that moment, she glimpsed a piece of his own struggle, the scars he obviously still wore. It was a reminder that everyone carried their own burdens, their own stories of resilience and pain.

Lou felt a pang in her chest, a strange mix of surprise and empathy washing over her. It was hard to reconcile the image of the confident and successful man before her with the vulnerable child he once was, tormented by a merciless bully.

Her hands paused in their task, and she turned to face Logan, her eyes reflecting her disbelief. “Didn't you tell your parents about him? About how he was treating you?” The weight of her words hung in the air as if urging him to share his experience.

Logan's expression turned sombre as he recalled the past. “I did, once,” he replied, a touch of bitterness in his voice. His gaze dropped momentarily before meeting Lou's again. “But my mother … she didn't take it seriously.”

Lou's heart sank, tears welling up in her eyes as she struggled to comprehend such indifference. She resumed washing the dishes, a mix of sadness and anger clouding her thoughts. “If something like that happened to my Dani, then I’d be up that school in a heartbeat, demanding answers,” she confessed, her voice quivering with emotion.

A hint of wistfulness coloured Logan's features as he gently took the dish from Lou's hands. “That's where you and my mother differ,” he said, his voice tinged with a touch of resignation. “She told me I needed to toughen up and stop being such a nuisance. Apparently, my stepfather was paying good money to send me there, and I should be very grateful to him.”

Lou's eyes widened in disbelief, her heart aching for the child Logan once was. “She didn't?” she whispered incredulously.

He nodded sadly, memories of the past weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Oh, yes, she did,” he confirmed, his voice laced with bitterness.

Lou's brow furrowed in disbelief as she struggled to comprehend the extent of the neglect. “Didn't she even speak to the teacher or the headmaster?”

“Not that I'm aware of,” he replied, a touch of resignation in his tone. “And if she did, nothing changed. If anything, it only got worse.” His gaze drifted, lost in the painful memories. “The harder I tried, the more I failed, and the greater his pleasure in humiliating me.”

Her heart ached for this child. “I remember once in his class, I must have been about seven,” he continued, his voice filled with anguish. “We had a maths test the day before, and I was so scared when he was handing out the results that I wet myself right there in my chair.”

Lou's eyes welled up with tears, her hand instinctively reaching out to him in a gesture of comfort. “It must have been awful,” she whispered.

Logan nodded; the pain etched across his face. “It was the last lesson of the day, and the bastard made me sit there in my wet clothes, forcing me to redo the test again and again to teach me a lesson.”

Outrage surged through Lou, her voice trembling with anger. “Did you report him? What he did was wrong. He was a grown man bullying a child,” she exclaimed, her heart aching for the vulnerable child he had once been.

“What was the point?” Logan replied, his voice tinged with resignation. “He was the deputy head, a real pillar of the community.”

Her anger intensified, fuelled by a deep sense of injustice. “Even so, that doesn't excuse his behaviour. You deserved better,” she asserted, her words filled with conviction. The thought of a defenceless child enduring such torment without intervention tore at her heart.

“How long did it go on for?” she asked, her voice softening with concern.

“I can't remember,” Logan replied, his tone tinged with the weight of time and fading memories. “You know how it is when you're a kid. Time seems to move at a different pace.”

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