I spent the next half hour on pins and needles, trying to distract myself by trying on shoes, and blew Mikael's brain with the question "What time is it?" every five minutes.

"Don't worry, Lexi, he's all right!" – once again feeling my panicky emotions, my friend assured me.

– Why are you so sure of it? Are you picking up his thoughts? I looked at the telepath with hope.

"Your tattoo hasn't gone anywhere." He gently ran his finger along my painted wrist. So he's alive.

“I hope so,” I sighed heavily.

So, during conversations and heavy thoughts, I tried on a bunch of shoes and chose seven pairs...