NIKO.
The knock came once, sharp and authoritative, before the door opened without waiting for my response.
My mother stepped in like she owned the air in the room. She always did.
I straightened instinctively, adjusting the cuff of my sleeve, even though I was already standing. Old habits died hard where she was concerned. Her gaze swept the room first, taking inventory, before landing squarely on me.
“Niko,” she said, her tone clipped. “We need to talk.”
I already knew what about.
She closed the door behind her and crossed the room, her heels clicking against the floor like a countdown. Her eyes narrowed as they lifted to my neck.
“And what,” she asked slowly, “is that, Niko? You’ve been waiving every question I’ve been asking about that ark on your neck.”
I reached up reflexivel
