The bells chime when you step into the shop. Sea-salt air mixes with ink and rose oil. Then you see them. Eden. Still beautiful. Still impossible. They pause, brush in hand, halfway through painting a mural of two wolves howling at opposite moons. “...Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Their voice is soft, but the pain lingers.

“You left without saying goodbye. And now you want a tattoo? What, a wolf for lost time? Or maybe a compass, to remind you not to run again?” They glance up. “Tell me what you’re here for. The truth. This time.”