Dale pushed up the sleeve of his shirt and the other three did the same. They turned over their arms so that their forearms showed. On all four arms, halfway between wrist and elbow, was what she could only describe as a brand. It was a cross, but not just any cross. A Coptic cross. A symbol with which I was very familiar.
“Your arm,” Dale prompted, unable to contain the eagerness in his voice.
Wordlessly, I held out my arm. I watched as all four looked down, their faces falling as they saw the smooth, unmarked skin. Finally, I was able to regain my composure enough to speak. “My parents... the people who adopted me, they knew that a little girl with a scar would have a harder time getting cast, especially a scar that looked like it had been intentional.”
Four heads came up at the same time, four sets of eyes widening in varying stages of disbelief and shock.
“I wasn't even a year old when they had a plastic surgeon fix it.” I ran my hand over the soft skin. “But they had a picture of it and liked to use it to remind me how lucky I'd been to have parents who'd pay for that kind of surgery.”
“It is you.” A wide smile broke across Dale's face. “Olivia, you don't know how long we've been looking for you.”
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MARKED (Hunter Awakened) Page 18