I peered down at the expanse of skin on my rib cage, then back at my work in progress. A wall wouldn’t be enough. I needed Clint seared into my flesh. I wanted to pay tribute to him with my body. I wanted him with me forever. Because what I hadn’t told Clint downstairs was that my selfishness had paid off. If mom hadn’t survived that day, I would’ve been in a foster home instead of the park, weeks later, where Clint had saved me for the first time from a world he’d continued to save me from thereafter.
