Casey asked Kayla to sit again.
“Only if you want to,” she added quickly.
Kayla sat because her knees felt unreliable.
Owen remained near the door.
Casey opened the appointment record on her workstation.
The original design was there.
So was a later message from Owen.
“Kayla changed her mind about the wording. She wants Elena in the same script. Please keep it a surprise until the appointment. She gets nervous and overthinks changes.”
Kayla read the message.
Then read it again.
“She gets nervous,” she said quietly.
Owen folded his arms.
“You do.”
Casey looked at him.
“You represented this as her decision.”
“I’m her husband.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
Kayla scrolled farther.
Owen had sent the revised design, confirmed the spelling, and asked Casey not to mention the change while he was present.
Casey had answered that Kayla would need to approve the stencil.
He replied with a thumbs up.
“You knew,” Kayla said.
Owen frowned.
“Knew what?”
“That you were going to stand here and let me think I was approving my word.”
Casey stepped back from the desk.
“I should have confirmed the wording directly with you before starting. I relied on his message and your approval of the placement. That was my mistake.”
Kayla appreciated the admission.
It did not remove the letters from her arm.
“Please send me everything,” she said.
“The original design?”
“All of it. The messages, the changes, the appointment record.”
Owen reached toward her phone.
“Kayla, stop collecting ammunition.”
She pulled it away.
Casey moved between him and the chair.
“Please give her space.”
He looked offended.
“I’m not doing anything.”
Kayla stared at him.
The tattoo throbbed beneath the studio light.
He had already done something.
Now he wanted to decide how much of it she was allowed to understand.
