Jethro’s POV

He came back sooner than I expected. I hadn’t even cleaned up the sketches from the last session when the doorbell chimed and Jethro walked in, same jacket, same quiet steps.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again this week,” I said.

He rubbed the back of his neck, that same nervous habit. “It feels… unfinished.”

“The tattoo?”

He nodded once. “Yeah. Like it’s missing something. I can’t explain it.”

I studied him for a second. His voice was steady, but there was a flicker behind his eyes, the kind that comes from something deeper than ink. “Alright,” I said, motioning him to follow me. “Let’s see what the...