The VIP room was quieter than usual.
The music from the main floor barely made it through the thick walls, leaving only a low vibration beneath my feet.
I sat curled into the corner of the velvet couch, watching Ezra pour himself a drink.
Kael stood near the door.
I still wasn't completely used to having him around.
"You know," I said, looking at him, "you don't have to stand there like you're guarding a bank."
Kael glanced at me.
"I prefer the door."
"Why?"
"It's a good vantage point."
I looked at Ezra.
"Is he always like this?"
Ezra smiled into his glass.
"Unfortunately."
Kael didn't seem offended.
That almost made me laugh.
I turned my attention back to Ezra.
"You're quiet."
"I've been thinking."
"That's dangerous."
His eyes met mine.
"About Lucien."
My smile disappeared.
"Oh."
Ezra set his glass down.
"What exactly did he say to you?"
I shrugged.
"He asked about my tattoo."
Ezra's expression changed.
"Your tattoo?"
"Yes."
"What did he ask?"
"Where I got it. If I knew what it meant."
"And what did you tell him?"
"The truth."
Ezra waited.
"I don't know what it means."
Kael looked at me.
"You've never asked?"
"Of course I've asked."
"Who?"
I hesitated.
"Eliot."
Ezra's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Eliot?"
I looked at him.
"Yeah."
"Who is Eliot?"
I stared at him for a second.
Then I smiled.
"Are you jealous?"
His expression immediately went blank.
"No."
"You are."
"I asked a question."
"You asked that question like you were preparing to interrogate him."
Kael turned his head toward the wall.
I could have sworn he was hiding a smile.
Ezra gave him a look.
Kael suddenly became very interested in the door again.
I laughed.
"Relax. Eliot is my brother."
Ezra's shoulders loosened.
Barely.
But I noticed.
"Oh," I teased.
He looked at me.
"Don't."
"Did you just relax?"
"No."
"You absolutely did."
"I was never tense."
"Sure."
I leaned back against the couch, enjoying myself entirely too much.
"So," I continued, "my brother has the same tattoo."
Ezra looked at my shoulder.
"The exact same?"
"Pretty much."
"When did you get them?"
"Years ago."
I smiled faintly.
"I was sixteen."
The memory came easily.
Eliot sitting beside me in the tattoo chair, trying to pretend he wasn't nervous.
I'd teased him about it.
He'd told me I was the one who wanted the tattoo.
I'd reminded him that he was the one who agreed to get a matching one.
Then we'd both laughed.
It had been one of those stupid little moments that seemed insignificant at the time.
But after our parents died, those moments had become everything.
Eliot was all I had left.
"So it was your idea?" Ezra asked.
I looked at him.
"Actually, yes."
His eyebrow lifted.
"I don't know why you're surprised."
"I've learned you enjoy making questionable decisions."
I smiled.
"Exactly."
Ezra moved closer and sat beside me.
"What did the design mean to you?"
I looked down at it.
"Family."
His expression softened.
"That's all?"
"That's enough."
I traced one of the vines with my finger.
"After Mom and Dad died, Eliot and I didn't have much left. So we got matching tattoos."
I paused.
"It was kind of our way of saying that no matter what happened, we still had each other."
Ezra's gaze stayed on me.
"That sounds important."
"It was."
I swallowed.
"It still is."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Kael asked quietly,
"Do you remember who did the tattoos?"
I looked at him.
"Yeah."
"Who?"
I frowned.
"Honestly…"
The answer should have been easy.
But suddenly, it wasn't.
"I remember the shop."
I closed my eyes briefly.
The memory surfaced.
The buzzing of the machine.
The smell of disinfectant.
Eliot sitting beside me.
His hand squeezing mine when I complained about the pain.
The artist telling me to stop moving.
I could see everything.
Except his face.
I opened my eyes.
"I don't remember his name."
Kael's expression changed.
"That's strange."
"Why?"
"Nothing."
I groaned.
"Everyone in this room needs to stop saying that."
Ezra laughed softly.
I looked at him.
"At least you're enjoying this."
"I'm enjoying you."
My cheeks warmed.
"You're distracting me."
"Wasn't that the point?"
I rolled my eyes.
But I smiled.
He leaned closer.
For a moment, I forgot about Lucien.
Forgot about the tattoo.
Forgot about every strange question that had been circling my head.
Then Ezra's fingers brushed my shoulder.
He paused.
"May I?"
I nodded.
He gently moved the fabric aside.
His fingertips touched the tattoo.
Pain shot through me.
I gasped.
Ezra immediately pulled away.
"What happened?"
I pressed my hand against my shoulder.
"It burned."
Kael moved away from the door.
"What did you feel?"
"Heat."
I looked down.
The tattoo looked normal.
At least, I thought it did.
Then I noticed one of the vines.
It seemed darker than before.
I blinked.
It was normal again.
"Did you see that?"
Ezra stared at the tattoo.
"Yes."
My stomach tightened.
"What was it?"
"I don't know."
I laughed nervously.
"Of course."
Ezra's eyes remained fixed on the mark.
"Does it ever do that?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
I pulled my clothing back over my shoulder.
"I've had this for years."
Kael looked at Ezra.
Something passed between them.
I caught it.
"What?"
Neither answered.
I stood.
"No. Don't do that."
Ezra looked at me.
"Do what?"
"Look at each other like there's something you aren't telling me."
He stood too.
"I don't know what your tattoo means."
"But you recognize it."
His silence answered for him.
"Where have you seen it?"
"Old family records."
I stared at him.
"Your family's records?"
"Yes."
"Why would my tattoo be in your family's records?"
"I don't know."
I shook my head.
"This is getting ridiculous."
Ezra stepped closer.
"Rita."
"What?"
"I promise you, I'm going to find out."
I looked into his eyes.
"And if you find something bad?"
His expression hardened.
"Then I'll protect you from it."
Something inside me softened.
I hated how easily he could do that.
Make me feel safe.
Even when everything around us suddenly felt wrong.
I looked toward the door.
"Do you think Lucien knows?"
Ezra's jaw tightened.
"I think Lucien knows more than he's telling us."
"About me?"
"Yes."
The room suddenly felt colder.
I touched my shoulder again.
"My parents are dead."
Ezra's eyes softened.
"I know."
"So who could possibly know something about me that I don't?"
Neither Ezra nor Kael answered.
And that was the moment I realized something.
Maybe the problem wasn't that I had forgotten something.
Maybe someone had made sure I never remembered it.
A strange pressure formed behind my eyes.
For one second, I saw something.
A woman.
Dark hair.
A trembling hand against a window.
A man's voice.
She can't stay here.
Then—
Nothing.
I blinked.
The room returned.
Ezra was staring at me.
"Rita?"
I swallowed.
"I'm fine."
But I wasn't.
Because I couldn't explain what I'd just seen.
And somewhere deep inside me, beneath years of memories I thought I knew…
something had just started knocking.