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His eyebrows shoot up. He must be surprised that Mila, such a closed-off, dangerous person, might share something so vulnerable with me. I feel him evaluating me with fresh eyes. There’s interest and a new air of respect. “Then I’ll leave this to you.”

Thank God. The idea of Madison being examined like a horse at a trade show makes me sick. “Give us privacy, please,” I say.

Madison darts her attention between us. She hasn’t spoken in several minutes and that doesn’t look about to change. But unless I’m imagining it, some color has returned to her face and she’s breathing easier.

Asher hesitates at the door. “The fox should have three legs.”

“Three?” I repeat.

“Yes. The fourth, with the chain, is only added once a girl is trained and broken. She is neither.” His long, dark stare at Madison communicates to me that he has also noticed how young she is.

The women who get the finished tattoo are changed forever.

I wonder helplessly what Mila was like before the last leg was added.

Asher cl