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family who never stopped looking for her… who never stopped loving her. It’s a miracle, and the world could use more of those. The two people who were responsible for taking her away from her family are safely behind bars, where they won’t be able to hurt anyone again.
    Good luck, little Leila. We’re so glad you’re home where you belong!
    Opening a folder in the locked drawer in my desk, I stuff the old newspaper article back inside. I try not to think how Melody and Rex never hurt me, like the person who wrote it said. They
did
hurt me according to everyone else, and I get how that’s true. My brain
knows
it is because they kidnapped me. They took me from my parents. It’s my heart that has trouble remembering it because the truth is, even though I struggle with the concept of love, I didn’t always. And when I remember who taught it to me, it was them because they’re the only ones who hold my early memories.
    These are the things no one will ever read about. How at first it wasn’t a miracle for me—I’d been taken from my family. I was scared and hurting and felt guilt for those feelings.
    My eyes sting, because I still feel all of those things.
    Before I let myself go through the hundreds of other articles in the drawers—the ones documenting my parents’ search for me, and the trail afterward, and the pictures of Melody and Rex, I shove the drawer closed again. I’m not sure why I even started looking in the first place because all it does is make me feel when I don’t want to.
    It’s been a couple days since I agreed to let Maddox in my shop. He comes in for a couple hours every day. I hate to admit it, because I almost hoped he’d screw up, but it hasn’t been bad. He’s up half the night working at Lunar, but he never shows it when he’s here in the afternoons.
    Even though I’m not the first person to work with him, he still studies everything I do. He watches me clean equipment and does everything exactly the way I tell him to. His dedication annoys me, even though it shouldn’t. He’s new, but he loves it, and it feels strange having that in common with him.
    For the millionth time I look at my cell. It’s almost 3:00, which means Maddox will be here any minute. It’s been slow as hell today and I’m hoping we get someone in not just because I want to work, but because it also helps when the scratch is here. We’re both quiet and even though I’m glad he’s not talking my ear off the whole time, it’s awkward as hell.
    When the door opens, I don’t look up, knowing it’s Maddox. Instead I turn to the computer to pull up my playlist so we at least have some music to listen to.
    “We have anyone scheduled today?” he asks.
    Now I let my eyes find him and wish he wasn’t so gorgeous. He still has that dark stubble on his jaw, which I’ve always found sexy, and eyes that are this unique shade of gray, with long black lashes.
    Eyes aren’t really something I’ve ever cared about drawing or tattooing, but for some reason, I think I’d like to draw his. I’d like to see if I could get the curl of his lashes right and the tone of his gray.
    “Nope. Hoping for some walk-ins, though. It takes a while to build up clientele.”
    He nods before sitting in one of the chairs. Maddox crosses his arms, and I can’t help but take in the long, toned muscles as they constrict with his movement. It’s crazy looking at him sometimes, because there’s always this edge of anger right below the surface. I see it almost come out, but he always finds a way to hold it back. If I thought he’d ever really let it out, he wouldn’t be here. Still, it’s definitely always there, making me wonder what he has to be so pissed about.
    But then there’s something in there that reminds me of Trevor too. Not that I know him really, but he has that pretty-boy look. He’s the type of guy who was popular in school and played sports and probably slept with the cheerleaders.
    It doesn’t fit, but I see