The Meaning Of The Mark
Rowan closed his eyes.
The last name wasn’t common.
Not in that part of North Carolina.
Not connected to that tattoo.
Not connected to that name.
When he opened his eyes again, the little girl had stepped closer.
She examined the tattoo as if it were something familiar to her.
Then she hovered her finger just above Rowan’s arm, careful not to touch his skin without permission.
“He said it meant you always found your way back.”
Everett looked away.
Boone covered his mouth with one hand.
Marcus blinked hard.
That sentence had never been written down anywhere. It hadn’t been shared online. It hadn’t appeared on a jacket or a wall.
It had been spoken once, decades ago, on the side of a highway after a storm.
Colter had said it while laughing, rain dripping from his hair, after all of them had taken a wrong turn and still somehow ended up exactly where they were meant to be.
Rowan’s voice came out low.
“Only six men ever knew that.”
Lila nodded.
“Daddy said you would remember.”
