His fingers travel down my arm to the compass tattoo near my wrist. His touch warms my skin. “And this one?” I swallow. Do I tell him? This one is even more personal. But he seems determined to know its meaning, since he doesn’t wait for my answer. He asks another question. “Is it for travel? Did you just want to see the world?” “No. It’s a reminder,” I say, a little heavily, wondering if I should voice it. “To find my way out of the dark.”
