Mia checked her reflection in the rearview mirror one last time before stepping out of her car. The diamond engagement ring on her left hand caught the streetlight and sparkled mockingly. At twenty-nine, she was three months away from marrying David, steady, kind, reliable David. The man who had never once understood her desire for something bold and permanent on her skin.
But tonight, she was doing it anyway.
The studio was tucked away in a quiet industrial neighborhood, open late for private sessions. “Jax” was the name on the website, highly recommended for custom work and discretion. She’d booked the 10 p.m. slot after weeks of nervous hesitation. The design was small but meaningful: a delicate wildflower vine with hidden thorns, meant to run along her left ribcage and dip toward her
