“Sure,” Hector James said. “I wanted to get one, but Dad won’t let me. When I’m eighteen, I’m going to get a big sunflower, like yours.” While she’d like to think he wanted one because of her, Hector James was a deeply personal and practical boy. If he wanted the tattoo, it was for some special reason of his own. “Why?” Alex asked. “It looks like wings,” Hector James said. He folded the scan of the Serbian map’s compass rose. The pedals of the flower looked like feathers. “Plus, mom liked it,” Hector James said. “You saw this sunflower when you lived with your mom?” Alex asked. “This one. With the eye,” Hector James pointed to her scanned copy of the ancient compass rose. “Mom had a pin that she wore on her sweaters. She used to wear it all the time. I think Dad gave it to her, but I don’t know that. Isn’t that why you have the tattoo? Because of Dad?” Alex shook her head. “Why do you have the tattoo?” Hector James asked. “I don’t know,”
