“Memento mori,” he read aloud, running his thumb over my tattoo, his soft caress stirring an irrepressible fire beneath my skin. “Remember you must die.” “It’s just something I did after my mother passed.” “A reminder to appreciate life as a gift.” Smiling, I lowered my gaze. “Some days are easier than others.” “Having purpose helps. Keeps you from doing foolish things, like dropping out of school.”
