Chapter 4 - Someone Who Stays
I didn’t sleep.
At six in the morning, Lily was curled beneath the blanket with Eleven the rabbit under her chin while I sat by the window searching Daniel Mercer’s name on my phone.
I didn’t need Google to remember him.
Mercer Development Group.
Real estate.
Luxury towers.
Commercial acquisitions.
Aggressive expansion.
Three years earlier, Mercer had attempted to purchase the building containing Harbor & Pine’s original flagship location. When I refused to break my lease, his attorneys spent nine months making my life miserable.
Permits challenged.
Loading access restricted.
Parking renegotiated.
Anonymous complaints.
Nothing illegal enough to prove.
Everything expensive enough to hurt.
Eventually, the property sale fell apart.
Mercer disappeared from my business life.
Until now.
His company profile showed a man in his late thirties with carefully styled blond hair and the practiced smile of someone who had never heard the word no without immediately calling a lawyer.
Was that Lily’s father?
I needed confirmation.
Denise arrived at seven.
One look at my face told her I already knew something.
“You recognize the name.”
“Yes.”
She closed the door.
“Keep your voice down.”
I glanced at Lily.
Still asleep.
“What did you find?”
“Daniel Mercer is listed on Lily’s birth certificate.”
“Does he have custody?”
“No.”
“Parental rights?”
“Legally, yes, unless there is an order we haven’t located.”
“Has he been paying support?”
“That’s not information I can give you.”
“Has he been involved?”
“June says no.”
I lowered my voice.
“Lily said her mother is scared of him.”
Denise’s expression changed.
“Exact words?”
“She said she wasn’t supposed to tell me his last name because her mother gets scared.”
Denise wrote it down.
“Did Lily describe violence?”
“No.”
“Threats?”
“No.”
“Then don’t lead her.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“I know. I’m saying it because this is sensitive.”
“What happens now?”
“We locate him.”
My jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“Because he’s her legal father.”
“He abandoned her.”
“According to family statements.”
“She doesn’t remember him.”
“That doesn’t erase legal rights.”
I stood and walked toward the window.
“Does Sarah get a say?”
“If she wakes up.”
The words landed harder than Denise intended.
She sighed.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. You’re right.”
My phone rang.
Hospital.
Sarah had remained stable overnight.
No major improvement.
No new decline.
In the ICU, stability counted as good news.
Lily woke at eight.
The first thing she asked was, “Is Mommy alive?”
“Yes.”
The second thing she asked was, “Did you stay?”
I pointed toward the chair.
“All night.”
She smiled.
Tiny.
Sleepy.
Satisfied.
“Good.”
I had closed hundred-million-dollar contracts that felt less important than that one word.
We ate breakfast in the hospital cafeteria.
Lily put syrup on scrambled eggs.
I tried not to react.
“You’re making a face,” she said.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“What face?”
“The yucky face.”
“I don’t have a yucky face.”
She pointed at me with her fork.
“That one.”
Denise joined us halfway through breakfast.
“Lily, can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“Do you remember your dad?”
“No.”
“Have you seen pictures?”
“Mommy has one.”
“Where?”
“In the blue box.”
“What blue box?”
“At home.”
“Would you be okay if we found it?”
Lily looked at me.
I stayed silent.
This needed to be her answer.
“I guess.”
“Do you know your dad’s last name?”
Her eyes dropped.
“You told Ethan his first name was Daniel.”
“I wasn’t supposed to.”
“You’re not in trouble.”
“Mommy says we don’t talk about him.”
“Why?”
Lily picked at her toast.
“Because he made her cry.”
Denise’s voice softened.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ever see him make her cry?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Sometimes Mommy cries in the bathroom.”
Children notice everything.
They simply don’t always understand it.
After breakfast, a social worker took Lily to a play area while Denise and I returned to Sarah’s apartment with a police escort to collect clothes and locate paperwork.
The building stood on a tired block south of downtown.
Old brick.
Rust around balcony rails.
A broken front light.
I imagined a five-year-old leaving alone in heavy rain.
My stomach turned.
The apartment door still carried marks from where firefighters had forced entry.
Inside, the place was spotless.
Not stylish.
Not comfortable.
But cared for.
A tiny pair of shoes sat beside Sarah’s work sneakers.
Crayon drawings covered the refrigerator.
One showed a woman and a little girl holding hands beneath a giant yellow sun.
No father.
On the counter was a bowl with two apples.
A stack of overdue notices sat beneath it.
Electricity.
Medical clinic.
Rent.
The rent notice was the worst.
FINAL WARNING.
I read the amount.
Sarah was two months behind.
Denise saw me looking.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Decide you can solve everything with money.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were.”
I stared at her.
She was right.
I hated that.
In the bedroom, we found the blue box under Sarah’s bed.
Lily had described it perfectly.
Inside were birth certificates, tax documents, school records, and photographs.
Then I found Daniel.
He stood beside a much younger Sarah.
Her face looked different.
Not younger.
Less guarded.
Daniel’s arm was around her waist.
On the back, someone had written:
July 2019 — Portland. Before everything changed.
There were more photographs.
Then a court document.
Denise took it before I could read fully.
“What is it?”
She scanned the pages.
Her expression hardened.
“What?”
“Temporary protective order.”
“Against Daniel?”
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
“For what?”
“I can’t discuss details yet.”
“You just found it in front of me.”
“That doesn’t make you a party to the case.”
I stepped back.
“Fine.”
But I had already seen enough words.
Threatening behavior.
Harassment.
Property damage.
Fear for safety.
The order had expired years earlier.
Why?
Had Sarah stopped pursuing it?
Had Daniel changed?
Had money complicated things?
Had she simply run out of strength?
Denise gathered the documents.
Then I noticed an envelope beneath the photographs.
My name was written on it.
ETHAN COLE — HARBOR & PINE
I stopped breathing.
“Denise.”
She turned.
“What?”
I held up the envelope.
Neither of us spoke.
It was sealed.
Yellowed slightly.
Not new.
My full business address was written below my name.
“Why would Sarah have a letter addressed to you?” Denise asked.
“I have no idea.”
That was the truth.
I had never met Sarah Carter.
At least, I didn’t think I had.
Denise photographed the envelope before allowing me to pick it up.
“You shouldn’t open it without Sarah’s permission.”
“It’s addressed to me.”
“It was in her private belongings.”
I stared at my own name.
A letter written by a woman now unconscious in an ICU.
A woman whose daughter had somehow walked into my store.
A woman connected to Daniel Mercer.
A woman I could have sworn I had never known.
Then something occurred to me.
“Check the date.”
Denise turned the envelope over.
A faint postal mark appeared near the corner.
It had never been sent.
But beneath it, Sarah had written a date.
March 14, 2023.
Three years earlier.
The exact month Daniel Mercer had begun trying to force Harbor & Pine out of its flagship building.
Denise looked at me.
“You still think Lily choosing your store was random?”
I didn’t answer.
Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure.
May you like
And the letter in my hand suddenly felt heavier than all eleven dollars and thirty-seven cents Lily had carried through the rain.
---
