THE MAFIA BOSS FOUND A STARVING MOTHER ON HIS RESTAURANT FLOOR—THEN DISCOVERED WHO STOLE HER BABY'S FUTURE

"I want to show them the check," I said.

Julia shook her head. "Not on social media. Not yet. Give the original to Brooks and let her trace it."

"They're offering me enough money to disappear."

"And that offer may become evidence. Don't destroy its value because you're angry."

I was angry. I was so angry I could hardly see. But Julia had spent days treating me like a person who could make decisions, not a frightened mother who needed to be managed. I listened.

Brooks collected the envelope that afternoon. By evening, the issuing bank had confirmed that the check was genuine, though the purchaser's identity required additional records. Brooks told me that accepting or depositing it would complicate matters; I had no intention of doing either.

Ethan found me at the kitchen table making a list on the back of an old grocery receipt.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Things I want after this is over."

"May I see?"

I turned the paper around.

A steady job. A small apartment with heat. A daycare Sam likes. My own bank account. A door that locks because I choose it to, not because someone else does.

Ethan read the list twice.

"No mansion?" he asked.

"Hard to vacuum."

He laughed, unexpectedly and fully. I stared at him. I'd heard his dry little almost-laughs before, but this one made him look younger.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing. I didn't know you could do that."

"Neither did I."

We were still smiling when his phone rang.

The smile disappeared as he listened.

"What happened?" I asked when he ended the call.

"A Northline employee who agreed to speak with the auditors says his supervisor ordered records destroyed. The employee kept copies."

"Who is the supervisor?"

"Victor."

"Then arrest him."

"That's Brooks's decision, not mine."

I hated the waiting. The case moved at the speed of warrants, interviews, and bank records, while Sam still needed diapers every morning and a nap every afternoon. It seemed impossible that the world could contain both.

Two days later, I attended a meeting at Julia's office to review my wage claim. Gregory had finally acknowledged that I worked the hours I'd reported, though he disputed the agreed rate. The restaurant's payroll records and my messages supported my claim. Julia said the unpaid wages could be resolved separately from the criminal investigation.

"I want what I earned," I told her. "Not hush money."

"Then that's what we'll pursue."

A receptionist knocked. "Ms. Davis? There's someone asking for you. He says he's Sam's father."

Every sound in the office seemed to vanish.

Sam's father, Caleb Price, had disappeared before our son was born. He'd sent one message after I told him I was pregnant: I can't do this. I had never heard from him again.

"He doesn't know where I work," I whispered.

Julia stood. "You don't have to see him."

"I want to know why he's here."

We met Caleb in a conference room with Julia beside me. He wore a new jacket and an old expression: the look of a man hoping charm could erase the past.

"Norah," he said. "You look good."

"What do you want?"

"I saw the story. I heard you're mixed up with Ethan Hayes."

"That has nothing to do with you."

"Sam's my son."

"You haven't asked about him in almost a year."

Caleb looked at Julia, then back at me. "I made mistakes. I want a chance to make things right."

"How did you find me?"

He hesitated. "A man called. Said you'd come into money and needed family around."

Julia's pen stopped moving.

"What man?" she asked.

"Didn't give a name."

"Did he offer you anything?"

Caleb's face reddened. "He said he could help with my debts if I convinced Norah to leave town."

I felt as though someone had punched me.

"You came here to sell me out?"

"No. I came because—"

"Because someone offered you money."

He stared at the table.

"Did you give him information about Sam?" Julia asked.

"Just his name. And that Norah used to live on the South Side."

I pushed my chair back. "Get out."

"Norah, please—"

"You can speak to Julia about any lawful request concerning Sam. You do not get to walk into my life because a stranger paid for your ticket."

Caleb left without another word.

I went to the bathroom and cried so hard my chest hurt. I wasn't crying because I wanted him back. I was crying because I'd spent eleven months imagining that maybe, somewhere, he wondered whether Sam had my eyes.

When I returned, Ethan was waiting outside the building. Julia had called him at my request.

"Don't say you'll make Caleb pay," I warned.

"I wasn't going to."

"Don't tell me you can fix it."

"I can't."

I stood there in the wind, looking at a man who could buy an entire block but couldn't give my son a father who wanted him.

"Can you just take me home?" I asked.

"Yes."

That night, after Sam fell asleep, Ethan found me on the balcony. He brought my coat and waited until I put it on.

"You don't have to do everything alone," he said.

"I've heard that before."

"Then don't believe it because I said it. Watch what I do."

I looked up at him. The city lights outlined his face, the rough beard, the scar near his hand. I was suddenly aware of how close he stood.

"I don't know what this is," I whispered.

"Neither do I."

"I'm not ready to trust you with my heart."

"Then don't. Not yet."

He stepped back first. Somehow that made me want him closer.

My phone rang inside. Julia.

"Brooks traced the check," she said when I answered. "The purchasing account belongs to a charitable foundation Victor controls. And she has enough corroborating evidence to seek warrants."

I gripped the railing.

"When?"

"Soon. But there's something you should know before you hear it from the news. The foundation's board includes one other name you recognize."