Three identical little girls walked straight up to a widowed father in the middle of the park and innocently said, “Our mom has the exact same tattoo as you.” The color drained from his face. The faded compass inked on his arm wasn’t just body art—it was the last reIXTminder of a single reckless night he had spent trying to erase from his memory. In an instant, a chapter he believed was long buried came crashing back into his life.
“My mommy has that tattoo too.”
