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“That’s it?” I ask, looking at the finished tattoo on my arm as Ryan applies some kind of plastic film over the fresh ink.

She nods. “Yep, that’s it! This is Saniderm. Leave it on for twenty-four hours, wash your tattoo with unscented antibacterial soap, then apply a second piece of film. You can leave that one on for up to five days, and then after that, just keep it moisturized. But a small piece like this, it should heal super quickly.

I smile, sitting up to look at my new tattoo in the mirror. “This looks great! Thanks, Ryan,” I say, giving her a big hug.

She hugs me back. “You’re absolutely welcome, Naomi. You sit just as well as Sage, honestly, so it was a breeze.”

“That’s a pretty big compliment,” Sage says with a shrug, “I’m her favorite person to tattoo for that very reason.”

Ryan scoffs. “Don’t let it go to your head, Sega.” She walks back to her station. “Let me clean up and reset, and then you’ll be next. Tell me what it is you’re looking to get while I work.”

Sage blushes, shifting her weight on her feet, seemingly a little uncomfortable. “So I wanted to get this mantra that my therapist gave me, ‘It’s okay not to be okay,’ in cursive down my spine with a semicolon at the end.”

Ryan stops in her tracks, her face dropping. “Oh, Sage… You never told me,” she murmurs, dropping her supplies to give Sage a tight hug.

I look between them, a little confused. Sage told me that she’s been in and out of therapy, but that seems like a strong reaction.

Sage pulls away, wiping a tear from her eye. “I don’t talk about it much. It was a dark time in my life.” She glances over at me, and seeing the confusion on my face, she bites her lip, rubbing the back of her neck.

“I haven’t told you this story either, Naomi. I told you how I ended up in foster care, but not everything that happened in the time between entering the system and being placed with the Davises.

I told you about how I was self-harming, but I didn’t tell you that I attempted suicide after a few months with my first placement. That family was awful and they treated me a lot like my mom’s ex-boyfriend.

I was at school when I attempted because I couldn’t bear the thought of going back to that house. My teacher found me and I ended up in the hospital. After DCF investigated, they removed me from that family and I was in a group home for a while.

After my suicide attempt, there was a note put in my file that I was a tough case. They had a hard time finding a family that they could place me with because of it. That is until the Davises came along. They didn’t care, they wanted me anyway.

Project Semicolon is a mental health organization dedicated to suicide prevention. The semicolon is a pause in a sentence, not the end. So the semicolon symbolizes that my story isn’t over yet either.

I’ve been thinking about getting this tattoo for a long time, but what better time to get it than now? If my story had ended then, I never would’ve met you. And this connection that we have? It’s so, so special, Naomi,” she says, taking my hand.

I reach up with my free hand, wiping the tears forming from my eyes. “Sage, I had no idea. I’m so honored that you shared this with me and decided to trust me with this moment.”

“Of course, I couldn’t imagine anyone else I trust more,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper as she presses her lips to my forehead.

Ryan sniffles, and I look over to see her tearing up. “Stop, you guys are going to make me cry! Okay, let me collect myself while I go make up your stencil.” She walks away, wiping her eyes on her T-shirt.

Sage gives me a small smile, pulling me in tight against her. “You’re one of the best things that have happened to me, Naomi, and I’m so happy you’re mine.”

I sigh happily, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. “Likewise Sage. Coming to Pinebrook has been such a blessing in disguise because I got to meet you.”

Ryan returns with her stencil. “Ready, Sage?”

She nods, pulling away from me. “Ready.”

Sage takes her leather jacket off, tossing it on a chair. She pulls her hair up into a bun before pulling her long-sleeve shirt off, crossing an arm over her chest. She lays face down on the bench. Ryan applies the stencil to her back, taking a picture so Sage can check the placement before starting on her tattoo.

She rests her head on her arms crossed underneath her, closing her eyes. She hums as Ryan works on her back, tightening her shut eyes at some moments.

“How is it?”

Sage pauses for a moment before responding. “Not the worst I’ve had, but it’s not painless. Like I definitely think my underboob and my thigh hurt more, but this hurts more than most of my arms,” she says, her eyes remaining closed.

“It’s impressive watching you. You’re not moving at all,” I say in awe of how calm she is despite the pain.

“Eh, at this point, I’m so used to the pain and sensations of being tattooed. I can get through it pretty easily.”

Ryan works efficiently, and before I know it, Sage’s tattoo is done. She takes a photo, letting Sage check it for herself on camera and in the mirror, before applying the same film to her back that she applied to mine. As she does so, I look up at Sage, becoming aware that she’s walking around topless. “Sage, put your shirt back on,” I hiss, not wanting to make Ryan uncomfortable.