CHAPTER 87: YOU’VE SEEN A LOT LATELY

I stared at the serpent tattoo.

That same symbol. Black ink. Faded at the edges.

It sat right there.... on Mr. Blake’s wrist. The same as the one I saw on the man who hurt Liam. The same one on Scarface. On Baldy.

And now it was on him.

He kept talking on the phone, facing the wall, unaware that he’d just peeled a mask off without realizing.

What the hell was going on?

I swallowed, backing up half a step, but my foot scraped lightly against the floor. He turned just slightly still on the phone and tugged his sleeve back down over his wrist.

Too late. I’d already seen it.

My mind spun.

Do I say something?

Do I ask?

What if I’m wrong?

And something inside me snapped.

He ended the call, slipped his phone into his back pocket, and turned around like nothing had happened.

I swallowed hard. My voice felt stuck in my throat, but I forced it out anyway.

"Mr. Blake?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

I hesitated. My eyes went to his wrist. Then back to his face. "Your tattoo... What is it?"

His smile didn’t vanish...but it changed.. Slipped just enough for me to notice.

"What tattoo?" he said it like he hadn’t heard me right.

"The one on your wrist." My voice was quieter now. "I saw it just now. When you were on the phone."

His eyes flicked down to his sleeve.

Just for a second.

Then back up.

"It’s nothing," he said quickly, tugging the cuff of his jacket tighter. "Just an old thing. Doesn’t mean anything anymore."

"That’s not what it looked like," I said before I could stop myself. "I’ve seen it before."

He paused.

And that was it. Just a pause.

No surprise. No curiosity.

There was a flicker behind his eyes.

I tried to hold his gaze, but I couldn’t tell if he was lying or just being casual on purpose. My heart was racing too fast.

I shook my head. "I mean, I think I saw it before. That’s all."

"You’ve seen a lot lately," he said calmly. "Might be mixing things up."

I stared at him. "I’m not."

He didn’t deny it again. Didn’t argue. Didn’t admit, either.

Instead, he stepped away from the table, grabbed his coffee, and gave me that same smile.

"You should get back to your sister," he said, like we were done here. "She needs you more than I do."

Then he walked past me.

He reached for the doorknob. I didn’t stop him. I didn’t say another word.

He paused just before opening the door. Turned his head slightly. "Be careful, Mr Rivera. Not everything you see is meant to be questioned. Sometimes, for your own good, it’s better to act like you didn’t notice anything at all."

He said it like advice. But it sounded like a warning.

Like someone who already knew what I was walking into.

He knows something.

He’s part of it.

And he doesn’t want me asking questions.

But now I had more than questions.

I stood there, frozen, watching as he pushed open the door and disappeared down the hallway without looking back.

He was gone.

I stayed in that empty room for a while.

I knew I should tell someone. Dominic. June. Detective Harris.

But what would I even say?

That my teacher had a tattoo? That it looked like a gang symbol?

I had another clue. A clue that came with a warning:

I stayed longer than I should’ve. Like leaving meant facing what I’d just seen.

My legs felt like they didn’t want to move, like my body was processing what my brain was still too fogged to explain.

He didn’t explain, he just told me to be careful.

I took a deep breath, then another, and forced my feet to move.

The second I pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, the world hit me all over again.

Phones ringing at the front desk. Someone arguing behind a closed door.

Dominic was sitting on a chair, arms crossed, eyes half-closed like he hadn’t fully relaxed since I left. Alia lay across his lap, curled up in the too-big jacket, finally asleep. Her hand clutched his sleeve.

And a few feet away, June and Ian stood by the vending machine, talking in low voices. She leaned back against the wall, arms folded; he stood in front of her, hands in his pockets, nodding at whatever she was saying.

I stood there for a second just watching.

Dominic looked up first.

His eyes landed on me, and the second he saw my face, he straightened.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded, but it didn’t feel convincing.

"What’d he say?" Dominic asked again.

I looked at Alia instead.

"She’s okay?"

"Out cold," he said. "She knocked out the second she hit my lap."

Of course she did. Dom made people feel safe without even trying.

I sank into the chair beside him.

My head felt heavy.

I didn’t know what to tell Dominic... about Blake... about the tattoo... about the warning

Was it safer to say something or keep it to myself?

Before I could decide, an officer walked toward me with a clipboard.

"Ash Rivera?"

I stood slowly.

"Need your signature on a couple forms," she said. "We just need to confirm you’re family and that you’re taking the girl home. That okay?"

"Yeah." My voice cracked. "Yeah, that’s fine."

I followed her across the lobby. Everything felt too quiet.

"You need to sign the release form here and here. Do you have your ID?"

I pulled my school ID out of my wallet. My hand was still trembling.

She handed me a pen, pointed at a few spots.

Sign here. Initial there.

Easy.

But my hand still shook a little.

I looked at my name on the paper. Ash Rivera. Nineteen. Legally responsible for a kid who shouldn’t have to live through this.

The officer nodded and took the clipboard back. "You’re good to go."

I gave a small, exhausted smile.

By the time I made it back to the others, June was standing, slipping her bag over her shoulder. Ian was right behind her, keys dangling from one of his hand.

"We’ll get going" June said softly. "Give you guys space."

I nodded. "Thanks. For... everything."

June reached over and gave my arm a quick squeeze. "Text me when you get home."

Ian gave me a look I couldn’t read, then nodded once and turned to head out.

Dominic gently shifted Alia in his lap, slipping one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulders.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah."

I opened the door for him, and he carried her out like she weighed nothing. Her head flopped lightly against his chest, but she didn’t stir. Just let out a tiny breath, still sound asleep.

The rain had stopped. The air was damp and cold.

Ian’s car pulled out first. As they drove off.

I watched their taillights disappear, then climbed into the passenger seat of Dominic’s car while he gently laid Alia in the back.

He slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine.

The heat came on low. The radio stayed off.

We drove in silence for a while.

Then Dominic glanced at me. "You haven’t told me who he is."