Chapter 1 - The Phone Call That Changed Everything
Frank Miller looked at me as though he'd just received instructions for my funeral.
"Lily," he whispered, "it's someone from the Vale family."
My stomach dropped.
The diner was almost empty now. Rain hammered the windows, and the neon OPEN sign flickered against the dark parking lot.
"Who?" I asked.
Frank covered the receiver.
"Marcus Reed."
The bodyguard.
The one who'd reached for his gun when I touched Dominic Vale.
I felt my knees weaken.
"What does he want?"
Frank swallowed.
"He wants to know whether you're still here."
I stared at him.
"Tell him I went home."
Frank hesitated.
Then he spoke into the phone.
"She's still here, Mr. Reed."
I nearly screamed.
"Frank!"
He held up one trembling hand.
"Yes, sir. I understand."
The call ended.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then Frank looked toward the door.
"They're coming back."
My chest tightened.
"Why?"
"He didn't say."
I grabbed my purse from beneath the counter.
"I'm leaving."
Frank stepped in front of me.
"Lily, please. Whatever they want, running might make things worse."
"Easy for you to say! You're not the one who touched him!"
Outside, headlights swept across the parking lot.
A black SUV stopped beside the entrance.
My heart pounded.
Marcus Reed stepped out first.
He entered without removing his coat.
Frank immediately lowered his eyes.
"Mr. Reed."
Marcus ignored him.
His attention settled on me.
"Miss Carter."
My mouth went dry.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Vale would like to speak with you."
"About what?"
Marcus studied me.
"Something personal."
I glanced toward the door.
"Am I in trouble?"
For the first time, Marcus seemed uncomfortable.
"No."
"Then why did you reach for your gun?"
His jaw tightened.
"Because nobody touches Mr. Vale without permission."
"I was cleaning blood off his face."
"I know."
He paused.
"And that's why we're here."
I didn't understand.
Marcus reached into his coat.
I flinched.
But instead of a weapon, he produced a small white envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
A little boy, perhaps seven years old, stood beside a smiling young woman.
The boy had dark hair and familiar gray eyes.
Dominic Vale.
The woman looked strangely familiar.
I turned the photograph over.
Three words were written in faded blue ink.
My dearest Eleanor.
My breath stopped.
Eleanor Carter.
My mother's name.
Marcus watched my expression.
May you like
Then he said something that made the entire diner disappear around me.
"Miss Carter, Mr. Vale believes your mother was the woman who saved his life twenty-nine years ago."
