When Seb finishes he stops to admire his work. “Voilà. A perfect Gemini symbol, despite your antics. The curved bars were difficult, but I have had good practice recently.”

“I think your brother would be proud,” I reply.

Seb raises his eyes to mine. Angela shifts across from us. Nervous energy vibrates in the air. My flesh throbs, but I focus on my game of What Would Angela Do. She always knew to give people what they want, to intuit what they desire.

Seb lays the tattoo gun down. He studies me. “How magnanimous.”

“I mean it. I came all the way from San Diego for Angela. I understand what it’s like to do anything for your sibling.” Sometimes you have to go along to get along, Shayna. Angela’s words from her email pulse in my head. Play by his rules. Give him what he wants. “You loved your brother. If my sister were dying in a desert from some poisonous gas, I would be thanking you for finding a cure.”

Dark eyes narrow to slits. “Baptiste was always afraid of me when we were children. But I loved him; you’re right.” He comes closer. “Medicine is the only way out for any of us, Shayna. I hope you see that. And you will contribute to the field. Just not as the doctor you intended.”

He wheels a steel table from the corner to the middle of the room. He begins counting his instruments: three scalpels, a pair of surgical scissors, a retractor, a dermatome, clamps, two syringes, a spray bottle of antiseptic, a coiled tube, and a roll of paper towels.

Think, think, think. Weltering pity ratchets my throat. What does Seb want? It’s Jean-Luc’s words that provide the answer: psychopaths—those are the ones who sneak up on you. All of Seb’s tears over Angela were an act. He lacks empathy. He’s arrogant and rational to a fault. What I say has to be true in some respect, and also flattering. I clear my throat. “Seb?”

He pauses his tally with a huff. “Yes?”

“Do you remember that afternoon on the park bench? I didn’t say anything then, but I need you to know something. That day I denied my feelings for you out of some loyalty to my sister—misplaced loyalty. Because she’s only ever brought emotional upheaval into my life. But with you, Seb . . .” I meet his gaze. Dark blue stares back, bloodshot and round with cautious curiosity. “With you, I met my intellectual equal. And I threw it all away for a sister who moved six thousand miles from me. I was wrong to walk a path that diverged from you, from anyone I truly connected with. I guess it’s all in the past now. But I had to say it.”

Instead of excitement or a smile, the show of affection I wanted, he doesn’t blink.