Chapter 2 - THE WORDS MARIA LEFT BEHIND
Grace Reyes looked at Daniel as though she were trying to decide whether telling him the truth would cost her job.
Or something worse.
Lucy remained tucked against her shoulder, one thumb pressed near her mouth.
Daniel waited.
“What exactly did Maria say?”
Grace swallowed.
“She said, ‘If anyone named Mercer ever recognizes Little Bird, don’t run from them.’”
Daniel’s heartbeat stumbled.
Grace’s eyes dropped.
“Then she said, ‘But don’t trust them either.’”
The words landed harder.
Behind Daniel, the music room doors opened.
Nathan Cross, Daniel’s chief financial officer, appeared in the doorway with two attorneys behind him.
Nathan was forty-seven, silver-haired, perfectly dressed, and had been Daniel’s father’s closest protégé before becoming Daniel’s.
“We have fourteen people waiting on signatures,” Nathan said.
Daniel didn't turn.
“Cancel it.”
Nathan stared at him.
“The acquisition closes in forty minutes.”
“Then move the closing.”
“Daniel—”
“I said cancel it.”
Nathan finally noticed Grace and Lucy.
His eyes stopped on the child.
Only for a fraction of a second.
But Daniel saw it.
Recognition.
Or fear.
Nathan recovered quickly.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
That answer clearly bothered him.
Nathan glanced again at Lucy.
Then at Grace.
“We should discuss this privately.”
“We will.”
Daniel’s tone ended the conversation.
Nathan left.
Daniel looked back at Grace.
“You said your mother left instructions.”
Grace nodded.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
She hesitated.
“She left a box.”
The room seemed to contract.
“What box?”
“I don't know what's inside.”
“Where is it?”
“My apartment.”
Daniel immediately reached for his phone.
Grace stepped back.
“No.”
He stopped.
“No?”
“You are not sending strangers into my apartment.”
“I was going to send security.”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
Daniel stared at her.
Most employees lowered their eyes when he looked at them that way.
Grace didn't.
She was frightened.
He could see that.
But she held Lucy tighter and remained where she was.
“You said Maria told you not to trust Mercers,” Daniel said.
“Yes.”
“And yet you work in my house.”
“I needed the job.”
The bluntness nearly made him smile.
Nearly.
“What’s in the box?”
“She never told me.”
“Have you opened it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Grace's expression softened.
“Because my mother made me promise.”
Daniel exhaled.
“Then why would you open it now?”
“Because she also said there would be one reason to break that promise.”
“Little Bird.”
Grace nodded.
Daniel looked at Lucy.
The child was watching him now.
Curious.
Not afraid.
He crouched slowly so he was closer to her height.
“Lucy?”
Grace tensed.
Daniel stopped moving.
“May I talk to her?”
Grace seemed surprised he had asked.
“Yes.”
Daniel looked at the little girl.
“Do you know the song you were humming?”
Lucy nodded.
“Birdie song.”
“Who taught you?”
She pointed at Grace.
“Mommy.”
Daniel’s throat tightened.
“And Mommy learned it from Grandma Maria?”
Another nod.
Then Lucy leaned closer to Grace and whispered loudly, “He looks sad.”
Grace closed her eyes.
Daniel almost laughed.
“I’m okay.”
Lucy studied him with enormous brown eyes.
“No.”
The word was so certain that Grace looked embarrassed.
“Lucy.”
But Daniel raised one hand.
“She’s right.”
He looked toward the piano.
His mother used to sit there.
Not this exact instrument.
The original had been removed after her death because Daniel’s father claimed he couldn't stand seeing it.
Daniel had believed him.
For thirty-one years, Daniel had believed many things.
His mother died because of a heart condition.
Maria Reyes had simply disappeared.
His father had grieved.
Little Bird had died with Evelyn.
Now none of that felt certain.
“I want to see the box,” he said.
Grace nodded slowly.
“After my shift.”
“Now.”
“Mr. Mercer—”
“Daniel.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“If we’re about to dig up whatever my mother and your mother buried thirty-one years ago, I think you can call me Daniel.”
Grace looked deeply uncomfortable.
“I'm still on the clock.”
He almost smiled again.
“You're worried about getting fired?”
“I have rent.”
Daniel's expression changed.
“You have a child.”
“Yes.”
“You're a single mother?”
Grace’s face closed immediately.
“That isn't relevant.”
He realized he had crossed a line.
“Fair.”
She relaxed slightly.
“I have to sign out.”
“I'll speak to Bennett.”
The moment Daniel said the name, Grace stiffened.
“What?”
“Mr. Bennett.”
“Robert Bennett?”
“Yes.”
Daniel noticed her reaction.
“Why?”
Grace looked toward the hallway.
“He was the one who hired me.”
“And?”
“He knew my mother.”
Daniel stood.
“What?”
“He didn't tell me until my second week here.”
A cold sensation moved through Daniel’s stomach.
“What exactly did he say?”
“That Maria worked for the Mercer family a long time ago.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
Earlier, Grace had said she didn't think Maria had worked there.
“Why didn't you tell me that?”
“Because I thought he meant another property.”
“What else?”
“He asked whether my mother left any papers.”
The room went silent.
Daniel’s eyes sharpened.
“What did you tell him?”
“That she didn't.”
“Was that true?”
Grace looked at him.
“No.”
Daniel turned toward the door.
“Where is Bennett?”
“Daniel.”
He stopped.
Grace lowered her voice.
“If my mother told me not to trust Mercers, she was afraid of someone.”
“Yes.”
“But she also spent years telling me never to assume the person asking questions is the dangerous one.”
He faced her again.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying if Robert Bennett wanted the box, he had five years to take it.”
Daniel considered that.
Grace continued.
“He knows where I live. He helped me when Lucy was born. He got me this job.”
“So you trust him?”
“I trust what he’s done.”
That answer stayed with Daniel.
Not what he said.
What he had done.
“Fine.”
He called his security director instead.
“Two cars. No visible weapons. We’re leaving.”
Grace stared.
“We?”
“You’re not going alone.”
“I have survived twenty-nine years without billionaire supervision.”
“And I survived thirty-eight without hearing my dead mother's song.”
Daniel’s voice softened.
“Today seems unusual for both of us.”
Twenty-five minutes later, they pulled up outside Grace’s apartment building in Stamford.
Daniel had expected modest.
He hadn't expected the cracked stairwell window.
The broken intercom.
The dark stain where water damage spread across the lobby ceiling.
Grace noticed his expression.
“Don't.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“Your face did.”
Lucy reached for Daniel from Grace’s arms.
Both adults froze.
Lucy stretched both hands toward him.
“Up.”
Grace looked horrified.
Daniel looked more terrified than he had during hostile corporate takeovers.
“I don't think she means me.”
“She definitely means you.”
“Why?”
“She likes tall people.”
Daniel hesitated.
Then Grace handed him Lucy.
The toddler settled against his chest as though this arrangement had been approved weeks ago.
Something inside Daniel cracked open.
He followed Grace upstairs.
Apartment 4C.
Grace unlocked the door.
Then stopped.
The door was already damaged.
The lock plate hung loose.
Daniel immediately handed Lucy back.
“Stay behind me.”
He pushed the door open.
The apartment had been destroyed.
Couch cushions cut apart.
Kitchen drawers dumped.
Mattress ripped open.
Grace made a tiny sound.
“No.”
She ran toward the bedroom.
“Grace!”
Daniel followed.
She dropped beside a closet.
Pulled out shoes.
Blankets.
A plastic bin.
Then she froze.
“The box.”
“What?”
“It’s gone.”
Daniel’s blood chilled.
Behind them, Lucy began humming.
Four climbing notes.
Two falling.
The soft ending.
Then a voice spoke from the apartment doorway.
“That song really is becoming a problem.”
Daniel turned.
Robert Bennett stood there.
The seventy-year-old estate manager looked exhausted.
In one hand, he held an old blue metal box.
Grace stared.
“You took it?”
Bennett shook his head.
“I saved it.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“From who?”
Bennett looked at him.
For the first time in Daniel’s life, the old man did not address him as Mr. Mercer.
He said his name like a warning.
“Daniel.”
Then he looked toward Lucy.
“Get that child out of here.”
“Why?”
Bennett’s expression broke.
“Because the last child Evelyn Mercer protected with that song almost died.”
Daniel stopped breathing.
May you like
Bennett held out the box.
“And you were that child.”
