of state. His sister’s kids were nearly grown.
Who was he rebuilding his house for?
Then something worse happened. A light from the patio shifted across Gerald’s head, and I saw the thing Lily had been staring at.
THE TINY COMPASS
Behind his ear was a small tattoo. A compass rose. No bigger than a coin. Still slightly pink around the edges.
My entire body went cold.
Nathaniel had the same tattoo. Exactly the same. Same design. Same place.
He’d gotten it at nineteen, on that old trip to Lake Thornwood. He used to joke that Gerald was supposed to get one too, but backed out at the last minute.
Nobody noticed Nathaniel’s tattoo very often. Lily did. When she was little, she’d sit on his shoulders and trace it with her fingertip. When he carried her to bed, she’d touch it while falling asleep.
To Lily, that tiny compass
