As we kept on talking, he seemed to be getting into my head. I had almost forgotten I was Mel, not Lisa.

…and then, he saw it…

"That tattoo on your palm reminds me of someone I know," he said, fixing his eyes on it.

"You said what?," I asked him, pretending I didn't hear the first time.

"Your tattoo…"

"Oh, it's fresh! The artist is my friend. He had lost his sister recently, so I wanted to have a lasting memory of her."

I had cut him short. If I had allowed him to continue, he probably would have caught me.

He didn't seem to believe me, so he...