Chapter 1 - THE FACE SHE BURIED
Elena stopped breathing.
The man on the sidewalk lifted his head just enough for the fading sunlight to touch his face.
Twenty-five years had changed almost everything.
His hair was longer and streaked with gray.
His cheeks were hollow.
A rough beard covered his jaw.
There were deep lines around his eyes that hadn’t existed when Elena was seventeen.
But his eyes were the same.
Gray-blue.
Quiet.
And painfully familiar.
“Stop the car.”
Her driver glanced at her through the mirror.
“Ms. Mercer?”
“Stop the car, David.”
“We’re in traffic.”
“I said stop.”
David immediately pulled toward the curb.
Before he could get out to open her door, Elena was already reaching for the handle.
Cold Manhattan air hit her face.
She barely noticed.
She stepped onto the sidewalk.
People moved around her.
A businessman nearly collided with her shoulder.
Someone cursed at a taxi.
A bicycle messenger shot through the intersection.
Elena heard none of it.
She stared at the man against the bank wall.
Twenty-five years disappeared.
Suddenly she was seventeen again.
Standing on the porch of a small house in Queens.
Holding a suitcase.
Waiting for someone who never came.
Her father.
“Thomas?”
The homeless man froze.
Elena’s stomach tightened.
He slowly looked up.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then his face changed.
Recognition.
Fear.
And something that looked almost like shame.
“Elena.”
Her knees nearly gave out.
He remembered her.
Of course he remembered her.
She had spent twenty-five years convincing herself that he didn’t.
“You’re alive.”
Thomas Mercer lowered his eyes.
“I suppose I am.”
Elena stared at him.
The anger arrived before the tears could.
Good.
Anger was useful.
Anger had built companies.
Anger had carried her through nights when she had eaten crackers for dinner because rent was due.
Anger had taught her never to need anyone.
“You suppose?”
Thomas said nothing.
“I buried you.”
His eyes lifted.
“What?”
“I buried you in my head twenty-five years ago.”
Her voice remained controlled.
That frightened people more than shouting ever had.
“You disappeared.”
“I know.”
“You left me with nothing.”
“I know.”
“I waited for you.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“I know.”
That answer broke something.
Elena stepped closer.
“No.”
Thomas looked at her.
“You don’t get to say that.”
“Elena—”
“You don’t know.”
People were beginning to glance toward them.
Elena didn’t care.
“I waited at that house for three days.”
Thomas’s expression tightened.
“I called every hospital.”
Her voice cracked.
She hated that.
“I called the police.”
“Elena.”
“I thought you were dead.”
Thomas slowly stood.
He was thinner than she remembered.
Much thinner.
But he was still tall.
Still unmistakably her father.
“I wanted you to think I was dead.”
The sentence hit harder than anything Elena had expected.
Her face went still.
“You wanted me to?”
Thomas looked toward the street.
“Yes.”
Elena took one step backward.
“Why?”
Thomas didn’t answer.
She laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Twenty-five years.”
“I know.”
“You owe me an answer.”
“I owe you more than that.”
“Then start talking.”
Thomas looked at her expensive SUV.
Then at her tailored clothes.
Then back at his daughter.
A strange sadness crossed his face.
“You became exactly what I hoped you would.”
Elena’s jaw tightened.
“You don’t get credit for what I became.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
Thomas nodded.
Elena reached into her bag.
She pulled out her phone.
“I’m getting you somewhere warm.”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“That wasn’t a question.”
“I’m not going with you.”
“You’re sleeping against a bank.”
“I noticed.”
“Then get in the car.”
Thomas shook his head.
“Elena, you need to leave.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
He looked past her.
Across the intersection.
His expression suddenly changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
Elena followed his gaze.
A dark sedan sat across the street.
Its windows were tinted.
Thomas grabbed Elena’s wrist.
“Get back in your car.”
She stared at his hand.
“Thomas—”
“Now.”
Something in his voice made her listen.
David had already stepped from the Navigator.
Thomas pushed a folded piece of paper into Elena’s palm.
“Don’t open this here.”
“What is it?”
“If anyone asks, you never saw me.”
Elena’s anger returned.
“I spent twenty-five years looking for answers.”
“And if you want to live long enough to get them, get in that car.”
The dark sedan’s engine started.
Thomas released her.
Then he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Elena stood frozen.
“Ms. Mercer?”
David reached her.
“We need to go.”
Elena looked down at the folded paper.
May you like
Three words had been written across it.
ASK ABOUT MARCUS.
