PART 2
James Mercer stared at the address he had written on the second napkin.
It belonged to a condemned apartment building scheduled for demolition in three weeks.
“Tommy,” he asked quietly, “is that really where Connor sleeps?”
The exhausted man hesitated.
“It’s all I can afford.”
James looked across the table.
Connor was laughing softly at something Elliot had said, his first genuine smile since entering the restaurant.
Something tightened in James’s chest.
“Don’t worry,” he told Tommy. “We’ll talk when you arrive.”
After hanging up, James ordered dessert for both boys.
But Connor suddenly pushed his plate away.
“Can I take some home?”
“Of course,” James answered.
“For Uncle Tommy. Sometimes he says he already ate, but I hear his stomach making noises.”
James turned toward the window, hiding the emotion rising in his eyes.
At seven fifteen, Tommy entered Brennan’s Grill wearing dirty work boots and a faded warehouse uniform.
His hands were trembling.
“Connor!”
The little boy ran into his arms.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Tommy. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
Tommy hugged him tightly.
“I should be apologizing, buddy.”
James approached and introduced himself.
Then he asked Tommy about his employment.
“Seventy hours a week,” Tommy admitted. “But medical debts swallowed everything after my sister died.”
James frowned.
“What was your sister’s name?”
“Rebecca Sullivan.”
James stopped breathing for a moment.
“Rebecca Sullivan?”
Tommy nodded.
“Did you know her?”
James slowly lowered himself into a chair.
Nine years earlier, Rebecca had worked at his struggling delivery company.
During a warehouse fire, she had pulled James from a smoke-filled office, saving his life.
He had searched for her afterward, but she had disappeared.
“Your sister saved my life,” James whispered.
Tommy stared at him.
Then James noticed something beneath Connor’s torn collar.
A small silver necklace.
Hanging from it was an engraved company medallion.
James recognized it immediately.
He had given Rebecca that necklace before she vanished.
But when Connor opened the locket, James saw something that made his blood run cold.
Inside was a photograph of Rebecca holding two newborn boys.
One was Connor.
The other looked exactly like Elliot.
On the back, Rebecca had written a single sentence.
“James, someday you must tell them the truth.”
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