He looked away then and motioned for her to follow him. They stepped through the short hallway to his office. Rabbit unlocked it and led her into the tiny room.

She stopped just inside the doorway, less comfortable but still okay. The room was barely big enough for the things he had crammed into it. A massive dark wood desk and two file cabinets took up the back wall; a long counter cluttered with various artists' tools and media stretched the length of the right wall; the third wall had a matching counter with two printers, a scanner, a projector, and a series of unlabeled jars.

He pulled another key out of his pocket and unlocked a drawer on the desk. Saying nothing yet, he pulled out a thin brown book with words impressed into the cover. Then he sat down in his chair and stared at her until she felt like running, as if everything she knew about him had faded and he were somehow unsafe.

This is Rabbit.

She felt embarrassed by her brief fear. Rabbit was like the older brother she should've had, a true friend. He hadn't ever offered her anything other than respect.

She walked up to the desk and sat on it.

He held her gaze and asked, "What are you looking for?"

They'd talked enough that she knew he didn't mean what sort of picture, but what it represented. A tattoo wasn't about the thing itself, but what it meant.

"Being safe. No more fear or pain." She couldn't look at him when she said it, but she had said it. That counted for something.

Rabbit flipped open the book to a section midway through and sat it in her lap. "Here. These are mine. They're special. They're like … symbols of change. If the one you need is in here … just… do any of these feel like what you need?"