Chapter 2 - THE SECOND MAN
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The policeman was there too.
Those words seemed to hang above us.
I crouched in front of Ethan.
“What policeman?”
Ethan shook his head.
“I don’t know his name.”
“What did he look like?”
Victor interrupted.
“This needs to stop.”
The warden turned sharply.
“You’re done talking.”
Victor glared at him.
Ethan squeezed my hand.
“He had shiny things here.”
He touched his chest.
“A badge?”
Ethan nodded.
Mom’s face changed.
I saw recognition before she said anything.
“Mercer.”
My heart dropped.
Detective Alan Mercer.
The man who investigated Dad’s murder.
The man who found the knife beneath Mom’s bed.
The man whose testimony had helped send her to death row.
Mom whispered his name again.
“Alan Mercer.”
Victor looked away.
That was enough.
I saw it.
So did the warden.
“You know something.”
Victor said nothing.
The warden ordered the officers to take him into a secure interview room.
As they dragged him toward the door, Victor twisted around.
His eyes found mine.
“Sophie.”
I hated how familiar my name sounded in his mouth.
“Think carefully about what you’re doing.”
I stared at him.
“My mother was five minutes from being killed.”
“And if you keep digging, she won’t be the only person you lose.”
A guard shoved him through the doorway.
My body went cold.
That wasn’t a denial.
It was a threat.
Mom must have seen the fear on my face.
“Sophie.”
I turned toward her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried.”
“No.”
My voice rose.
“You wrote hundreds of letters.”
“You kept saying you were innocent.”
“You never told me Victor stole money.”
“You never told me Mercer lied.”
Mom lowered her head.
“Because I was trying to keep you alive.”
The answer hit me harder than I expected.
“What?”
She looked at Ethan.
Then at me.
“Three days after my arrest, someone left a photograph inside my jail cell.”
“What photograph?”
“You.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“You were walking into school.”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears.
“Someone had drawn a red X across your face.”
I stepped backward.
“There was a message on the back.”
“What did it say?”
Mom hesitated.
“Confess, or she joins her father.”
I felt sick.
“Why didn’t you tell your lawyer?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“He said there was no proof the photograph came from Victor.”
“Who was your lawyer?”
Mom looked at me strangely.
“Robert Lang.”
I knew the name.
Of course I did.
Robert Lang had died four years earlier in what police called a drunk-driving accident.
Mom continued.
“Robert started believing me near the end.”
“What changed?”
“He discovered something about Mercer.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“He called me the night before he died.”
Mom’s voice dropped.
“He said he had found the connection.”
“What connection?”
“He never got the chance to tell me.”
I looked toward the door Victor had disappeared through.
For six years, I had believed my family had been destroyed by one terrible night.
Now I was beginning to understand that the murder might have been only the beginning.
A guard entered.
“Warden.”
The warden turned.
“We have the governor’s office.”
Mom grabbed my hand.
“Sophie.”
I looked at her.
“If they stop this permanently, you take Ethan and leave the city.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, Mom.”
For the first time in six years, anger replaced my doubt.
“You don’t get to protect me with silence anymore.”
She stared at me.
“I already lost Dad.”
My throat tightened.
“I almost lost you because everybody lied.”
I looked toward Ethan.
“And somebody has been letting him live with a murderer.”
Mom’s face crumpled.
“You’re right.”
Then Ethan whispered:
“Sophie?”
I turned.
He was staring at the glass window in the door.
“What?”
“That’s him.”
A man stood outside the visitation room.
Gray hair.
Dark suit.
Police badge clipped to his belt.
I recognized him immediately.
Detective Alan Mercer.
He had apparently been called because of the halted execution.
Mercer looked through the glass.
His eyes landed on Ethan.
Then on me.
Then on Mom.
He smiled.
But Ethan began shaking.
“That’s the policeman.”
Mercer opened the door.
“Quite a morning.”
Nobody answered.
Ethan backed against me.
Mercer noticed.
“What’s wrong with him?”
I stepped between them.
“Ethan says he remembers you.”
Mercer’s smile disappeared.
“From where?”
“The night my father died.”
May you like
For the first time, Detective Mercer looked afraid.
Then his hand slowly moved toward his jacket.
