Benny
Stitch’s face filled JJ’s laptop screen from the old North Town shop while I stood beside her reception counter with my phone open to the timeline Nixx and I had been building for weeks.
“Before either of you says it,” Stitch said as he turned the camera, “I am not touching anything.”
“Good.”
JJ leaned closer to the screen. “Show us her station again.”
The picture swung past two empty chairs and settled on Kinsley’s corner. I had only been inside that shop a handful of times, but even I could tell the station looked abandoned instead of cleared out. Two tattoo machines sat in their cases beneath the counter. A power supply was still plugged in beside spare cords, bottles, wrapped supplies, and a task light. A black leather work bag rested underneath everything.
JJ went quiet be
