CHAPTER 137: “YOUR BROTHER’S THINGS ARE YOURS.”

Slowly, Maxwell tapped in the password with careful precision, as though his finger carried the weight of an entire lock being forced open.

Each digit clicked against the glass, echoing louder in his ears than it should have.

When the final number slid into place, the device buzzed lightly in his hand, and the home screen appeared.

Instead of the typical glossy selfie or a stock landscape, what filled the screen was a breathtaking image of a magnificent castle.

Its tall towers seemed to pierce through silver clouds, and light spilled across its stone walls like liquid gold.

The screen shimmered faintly, making the fortress look alive, almost enchanted.

Maxwell’s lips parted slightly, a trace of awe flickering in his dark eyes.

"I... I unlocked the password," he murmured, his voice quiet, almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure Logan would believe him.

Logan lifted his gaze, his expression calm but watchful.

He gave a single slow nod, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile.

His eyes, though weary, gleamed with approval.

"Good. Now look for my bank app in the applications," Logan instructed.

His tone was steady, but it carried an undercurrent of gravity, making the room feel heavier.

Maxwell’s brow furrowed. He looked at Logan with a wary, almost disbelieving expression.

The request seemed too much, too risky, and the weight of it made his hand hover over the screen, uncertain.

His eyes flicked up to Logan, silently asking questions he didn’t dare voice aloud.

Logan caught that look and couldn’t help but smile.

The corners of his mouth lifted softly, though his face carried shadows of exhaustion.

He gave a small shake of his head, as if amused by Maxwell’s doubt.

"I know what you’re thinking," Logan said, voice quiet yet firm. "I’ll explain everything when we’re done.

For now, I need you to trust me—and I hope you’re memorizing everything I’m showing you." His hand made a small gesture, urging Maxwell to continue.

Maxwell swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

The air in the room felt tight as he exhaled through his nose and lowered his eyes back to the glowing screen.

His fingers scrolled slowly across rows of colorful icons. The hum of the phone was the only sound filling the tense silence.

After a long search, his finger paused, and he spotted them—not one, but three identical bank applications lined side by side.

"I... I found it," Maxwell said, glancing up quickly. His voice carried a mix of triumph and unease.

"Enter," Logan ordered, leaning back slightly. "And tell me which one you opened."

Maxwell’s hand trembled faintly as he tapped the first one. His breath quickened, and he murmured, "United Unity Bank."

At that, Logan’s lips twisted into a strained grimace. His hand moved to his temple, and a sharp groan escaped him.

"Ouch... my head," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly. His voice broke with pain, ragged at the edges.

Maxwell’s eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. His body shot up from the chair so quickly it scraped harshly against the floor.

"Let me call the doctor!" he blurted, already halfway to turning, his pulse racing.

But before his foot could take a step, Logan’s voice—strained yet commanding—cut through the tension.

"Don’t..."

His single word froze Maxwell in place, hovering between obedience and fear, his breath caught in his throat.

"Don’t worry about that. Let’s continue," Logan said, his voice low but steady, though a faint wince lingered on his face.

Maxwell hesitated, his brows drawn together. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone carrying both doubt and worry. "You’re... you’re alright?"

Logan gave a slow nod, pressing his palm lightly against his temple. "I’m fine. Now, sit. Let’s continue."

Maxwell exhaled a shaky sigh, shoulders relaxing just a little.

He lowered himself back onto the bed beside Logan, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

For a moment, the silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint hum of the phone still glowing in Maxwell’s hands.

"Tap, six-six-five-five-four-four," Logan instructed, his words deliberate.

Maxwell’s fingers moved quickly, tapping the digits across the screen.

Almost instantly, the app responded, sliding open with a smooth transition that made Maxwell’s eyes widen in faint surprise.

As if he could feel it without looking, Logan’s lips curved into a thin smile.

"Do you have a bank account?" he asked, his voice mild but probing.

Maxwell shook his head almost too quickly. "No."

"Okay," Logan murmured, nodding once. "Now let’s buy a recharge card."

And that make Maxwell miss the digit display at the top of options.

Maxwell blinked at him, lips parting, then pressed together again.

His silence stretched long enough that Logan lifted his face, his tired eyes narrowing slightly.

"The pin is—" Logan began, but his words trailed off when Maxwell interrupted.

"I don’t know how to buy a recharge card," Maxwell confessed, the words tumbling out fast, almost defensive.

His gaze lingered on Logan, half-expecting irritation, half-hoping for guidance.

Logan raised a brow, tilting his head ever so slightly. His sharp gaze studied Maxwell as though searching for the truth behind his words.

Then, with a weary sigh, Maxwell added, softer this time, "I don’t have a bank account."

For a heartbeat, silence filled the room again. Then Logan’s lips curved into a quiet, almost reassuring smile.

"You’ll soon have one," he said with certainty.

The simple promise made Maxwell narrow his eyes.

Suspicion flickered across his face—why was Logan so sure? What exactly was he trying to do?

"Let me teach you then," Logan said, breaking the tension before it thickened.

His voice softened, patient, though his breathing still carried faint heaviness.

Maxwell’s shoulders loosened slightly as he nodded, focusing on the phone again.

"Tap on Airtime," Logan instructed.

Maxwell obeyed, pressing the option carefully. The screen shifted, revealing a new menu.

"Now," Logan continued, "look at the display. Any amount of recharge card you want to buy is right there. Since My number is already inserted at the top... right?"

Maxwell’s eyes darted across the screen, scanning, searching. His brows furrowed, lips pressed tight in concentration.

For a moment he looked frustrated, his finger hovering aimlessly over the screen. Then, at last, his eyes lit up with discovery.

"Yes! Here—it’s at the very top of everything," he said, relief coloring his voice.

Logan let out a soft, sickly chuckle, his lips curving faintly despite the pain lingering in his eyes.

"Good. If you don’t want to buy it for this number, you can tap any other number you want. Whoever you choose will receive the card instead."

Maxwell nodded, his face solemn, absorbing the lesson as though every word carried weight.

His fingers hovered carefully over the phone, his body leaning slightly toward Logan as if afraid to miss a single detail.

For a moment, the room fell quiet again, heavy with the soft exchange of breath and the low glow of the phone’s light reflecting in both their eyes.

"You tap on the amount you want," Logan instructed, his voice calm but steady.

Maxwell’s finger hovered uncertainly above the glowing numbers on the screen.

His dark eyes flicked upward, meeting Logan’s, and hesitation clouded his expression.

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to ask again whether this was truly alright.

Logan caught that flicker of doubt and, with a warm smile, leaned his head back against the pillow.

"Don’t hesitate," he said softly, almost like an older brother coaxing a child. "Your brother’s things are yours."

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Maxwell froze.

His eyes widened, startled by the sudden intimacy of the statement.

His chest tightened as he stared at Logan, shock written across his face.

Logan blinked, realizing instantly what he had said.

He straightened a little, clearing his throat, his hand twitching nervously at his side.

"Oh—" he murmured quickly, shaking his head, "I’m sorry. Don’t take what I said for something else. I meant... we are twin brothers by heart."

The tension in Maxwell’s face loosened.

His shoulders dropped slightly, and a small, almost reluctant nod followed.

The corner of his lips lifted faintly, as though he wanted to accept those words, wanted to believe them.

Satisfied, Maxwell lowered his gaze back to the phone, the light from the screen reflecting faintly in his eyes.

He focused on the digits, tapping carefully as Logan had directed.

In doing so, he missed the fleeting look of relief that washed across Logan’s face—an expression that slipped away as quickly as it came.

’ I hope he is the one they were talking about,’ Logan thought silently, his eyes softening as he studied Maxwell’s concentrated expression.

Something unspoken passed through his mind, heavy and secretive, before he masked it with another gentle smile.

When Maxwell looked up again, waiting for the next instruction, Logan’s lips curved naturally. "Now... the pin, right?"

Maxwell nodded quickly, eager for guidance.

"Six-zero-zero-eight," Logan said with deliberate clarity.

Maxwell tapped the digits swiftly, his fingers now steadier than before.

A soft chime rang out almost immediately, the phone vibrating faintly in his hands.

"There’s a notification," Logan said.

Maxwell swiped the screen eagerly, his brows lifting when he saw the confirmation message appear.

"It’s already here," he said, his voice filled with quiet excitement.

For the first time that evening, a genuine smile spread across his face, unguarded and bright.

Logan smiled back, watching him closely, though something unreadable lingered in his eyes.

Then, with a sudden shift in tone, his voice cut through the moment.

"Where did you learn how to read?" he asked, his gaze narrowing, curiosity sharpening his features.

The question landed heavily, catching Maxwell off guard.

His smile faltered as his lips pressed together, the glow from the screen illuminating the sudden tension in his face.