Chapter 2 - The Shadow in the Corridor
The private lounge was quiet, illuminated only by warm desk lamps and the soft glow of a fireplace. Ethan sat on a plush leather armchair, his small hands clutching a grilled cheese sandwich as if someone might tear it away from him.
"Take your time," Grant said softly, sitting across from him. "Nobody is going to rush you."
"Mom says we shouldn't take things from strangers," Ethan muttered between bites. "She says people always want something back."
"Your mother is a smart woman," Grant agreed. "But I’m not a stranger, Ethan. Your dad was the best man I ever knew. He saved my life."
Ethan paused, looking at the silver watch resting on the dark oak table between them. "Mom said Dad gave his watch away to a boy who was soaked and angry. She said Dad told her the watch was doing more good on that boy's wrist than his own."
Grant’s throat tightened so hard he couldn't speak for a moment. Scott had never mentioned that to anyone else. It was proof—undeniable proof—that this boy was Scott’s flesh and blood.
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the lounge burst open. A woman in a dark blue housekeeping uniform hurried inside, her hair pulling free from her messy bun, her eyes wild with terror.
"Ethan!" she cried, rushing forward and grabbing the boy by the shoulders, pulling him behind her. She glared at Grant, her chest heaving. "Who are you? What are you doing with my son?"
"Leah," Grant said, rising slowly with his hands open in a gesture of peace. "Please, calm down. My name is Grant Mercer."
Leah Reed flinched at the name, but her defensive posture didn't break. "I don't care who you are. Leave us alone or I’ll call the police."
"A lot of people claimed to know Scott after he passed," she added, her voice bitter and exhausted. "Most of them just wanted money he didn't have, or tools he left behind."
"Scott kept a cracked red mug on his workbench," Grant said quietly, stepping into the dim light. "He said coffee tasted better when the cup had survived something. He hummed Motown songs when he tried not to swear. And he wrapped Christmas presents in old newspapers because he said store paper tore too easy and cost too much."
Leah’s breath hitched. Her hands slowly slipped off Ethan’s shoulders, her face pale as a sheet. "How… how do you know that?"
"Because he raised me for two years," Grant said, his eyes shining with unsphed tears. "And when I left, he gave me his father's watch. I’ve been looking for you for years, Leah."
Leah stared at the watch on the table, then looked up at Grant. Instead of relief, a dark, dangerous shadow crossed her face. She took a step back, pulling Ethan with her.
May you like
"You need to leave," Leah whispered, her voice laced with sudden panic. "You don't understand, Mr. Mercer. You coming here… it’s going to get us killed."
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