Leslie walked over to the far wall, where she flipped through the flash—images that could be bought by and put on as many people as liked them. Flowers and crosses, tribal patterns and geometric designs—many were beautiful, but no matter how long she stared at them, none seemed right. The small rooms branching off the main room had other styles that were less appealing: old-school pinup girls, skeletal figures, cartoon characters, slogans, and animals.

Rabbit came up behind her, but she didn't tense, didn't feel that urge to turn so she couldn't be cornered. It was Rabbit. Rabbit was safe.

He said, "Nothing new there, Les."

"I know." She flipped the poster frame board that rested against the wall. One image was of a green vine entwined around a half-human woman; she looked like she was being strangled but smiled as if it felt good. Idiotic. Leslie flipped again. Obscure symbols with translations underneath covered the next screen. Not my style.

Rabbit laughed, a smoker's raspy laugh, although he didn't smoke and claimed he never had. "With as much time as you've spent looking the past months, you'd have found it by now."

Leslie turned and scowled up at Rabbit. "So design something for me. I'm ready now, Rabbit. I want to do this."

Off to the side, the would-be customer paused to look at a couple of the rings in the glass case.

With an uneasy shrug, Rabbit said, "Told you before. You want custom work, you bring me an idea. Something. I can't design without references."

The bell clanged as the man left.

"So help me find an idea. Please? You've had my parental consent form for weeks." She wasn't backing down this time. Getting ink felt right, like it would help her put her life in order, to move forward. It was her body, despite the things that'd been done to it, and she wanted to claim it, to own it, to prove that to herself. She knew it wasn't magic, but the idea of writing her own identity felt like the closest she could get to reclaiming her life. Sometimes there's power in the act; sometimes there's strength in words. She wanted to find an image that represented those things she was feeling, to etch it on her skin as tangible proof of her decision to change.