“Is it me?” I ask, refusing to keep secrets or hide from the truth. Neither of those things have served me very well in life. And this, this is my new start. Today. Right here. “Am I the reason you're so upset?” “Of course not,” Ran answers for him, but then he looks from Cope to me, back to Cope again. “Are you fucking serious?” “It's not you,” Copeland says, leaning back against the silver and black tiles, the tattoos at his wrists vibrant under the rush of water, almost like they're being magnified. “Not exactly. I just …
