Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO WANTED HER SON
“Gregory called child services?” Norah whispered. “He knows what will happen if they take Sam.”
Her cracked phone slipped against her trembling fingers.
Ethan Hayes stood so quickly that Gregory Davis backed away from the office desk.
“Tell me why you called them,” Ethan said.
Gregory straightened his expensive jacket.
“I reported a dangerous situation. That woman cannot take care of herself, much less a child.”
“She collapsed because you refused to pay her.”
“She has problems you don't understand.”
Norah struggled to her feet.
“Please. I have to get home.”
Ethan caught her elbow when she stumbled.
“You can barely stand.”
“My son needs me.”
Something in her voice changed his expression.
He turned toward Mateo.
“Bring the car around. Finn, have the kitchen prepare food she can take with her.”
Gregory moved toward the doorway.
“Mr. Hayes, you're making a serious mistake.”
Ethan stopped.
“No, Gregory. My mistake was believing you were a decent businessman.”
For a moment, Gregory looked almost frightened.
Then his eyes settled on Norah.
“You should have stayed away from this place.”
She looked straight at him.
“I only wanted my three hundred dollars.”
“You always wanted more than you deserved.”
Ethan noticed the way she went still.
“That sounds personal.”
Norah swallowed.
“It is.”
She looked at Gregory with an expression Ethan couldn't understand.
“He's my uncle.”
The office fell silent.
Gregory looked away.
Ethan stared at the restaurant owner.
“You called child services on your own niece?”
Gregory's jaw tightened.
“Family doesn't excuse irresponsibility.”
“No,” Ethan replied. “It certainly doesn't.”
The black SUV pulled away from L'Osteria at 6:34.
Norah sat in the back beside Ethan, clutching the paper bag of food Finn had brought.
There were sandwiches, soup, crackers, and two small cartons of milk.
She hadn't touched any of it.
Ethan noticed.
“Eat something.”
“I can't.”
“You need your strength.”
“What I need is my little boy.”
He didn't argue.
Instead, he opened one of the crackers and handed it to her.
Norah accepted it reluctantly.
“Why didn't you tell me Gregory was family?” he asked.
“Because being related to him has never done me any good.”
She stared through the rain-streaked window.
“My father was his older brother. Daniel Davis. He died when I was nine.”
“What happened?”
“A warehouse fire.”
Ethan's fingers stopped moving.
“Which warehouse?”
“Hayes Cold Storage. Fifteen years ago.”
The silence that followed was different.
Heavy.
Norah turned toward him.
“You know it?”
Ethan looked through the windshield.
“My father owned that warehouse.”
Norah felt the cracker crumble in her hand.
For years, she had known the Hayes name.
It appeared in every newspaper story about the fire.
Her father had been accused of stealing company property before the building burned. The investigation ended without criminal charges against him, but the accusations followed his family long after his funeral.
“Your father was Robert Hayes?”
“Yes.”
“And you're Ethan Hayes?”
He nodded.
Norah moved closer to the door.
“You knew who I was?”
“No.”
“Then why are you helping me?”
Ethan met her eyes.
“Because you collapsed in front of me, and the man who owed you money wanted you thrown into the street.”
“That doesn't mean I can trust you.”
“No,” he said quietly. “It doesn't.”
She had no answer.
They reached Norah's apartment building just before seven.
It was an aging brick structure with peeling green paint around the entrance. A broken hallway light flickered above a row of dented mailboxes.
Norah climbed the stairs so quickly that she nearly fell.
Ethan stayed close behind.
On the third floor, her apartment door stood open.
A woman in a navy coat held a clipboard.
Mrs. Higgins sat on the sofa, her gray hair coming loose from its bun.
And in the middle of the room, a little boy in blue pajamas was crying.
“Mommy!”
Norah dropped everything.
She fell to her knees and gathered Sam into her arms.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
His small hands clutched her jacket.
“Mommy home.”
“Yes, baby. Mommy's here.”
She kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his soft brown hair.
For a moment, nothing else existed.
Then the woman with the clipboard approached.
“Ms. Davis? I'm Mara Ellis from Child Protective Services.”
Norah tightened her hold on Sam.
“Please don't take him.”
“I'm here to assess his safety. Nobody has made a decision to remove him.”
“His babysitter was here. He wasn't alone.”
Mrs. Higgins stood.
“That's true. I stayed because I knew Norah was trying to get her wages.”
The older woman glanced at Ethan and the two men behind him.
“Who are they?”
“People helping me,” Norah answered.
Mara studied Ethan.
He offered his name but remained by the doorway.
This was Norah's home.
He understood that barging into it and issuing orders would only make matters worse.
Mara reviewed her notes.
“The report alleged that Sam was regularly left without supervision, that there's no food in the apartment, and that his mother has been using drugs.”
Norah recoiled.
“I've never used drugs.”
“I have to ask.”
“My son is fed. I give him everything before I eat.”
Her voice broke.
“Sometimes there isn't enough left for me.”
Mara's expression softened, but she continued her assessment.
She checked the kitchen.
The refrigerator contained a small amount of milk, two eggs, and a container of leftover rice.
A few diapers sat beside the bathroom sink.
Sam's toddler bed was clean.
His clothes were neatly folded in a plastic drawer.
There wasn't much.
But what existed had been cared for.
Mrs. Higgins explained that Norah had been working several jobs until Gregory dismissed her.
When Mara asked about the restaurant, Norah showed her the termination message.
Then Ethan spoke.
“I witnessed Mr. Davis deny owing her money. He changed his story when she produced that message.”
Mara wrote something down.
“Poverty alone isn't grounds to separate a child from his mother,” she said. “But I need to understand the report and make sure there's a safe plan tonight.”
Norah nodded through tears.
“I'll do anything.”
Mara examined the food Ethan had brought and discussed emergency assistance, a medical evaluation for Norah, and a follow-up visit.
Then she asked one final question.
“Has anyone else been inside this apartment today?”
Mrs. Higgins frowned.
“A maintenance man came by around six. Said he needed to check the bedroom window.”
Norah looked up.
“What maintenance man?”
“He had a gray coat and a work badge. I was fixing Sam's dinner. He was only here a minute.”
“Our landlord never sends anyone without telling me.”
Ethan glanced toward Finn.
Finn understood without a word.
Something was wrong.
After Mara finished her initial visit, Norah carried Sam into the bedroom.
She wanted his favorite stuffed rabbit.
It was the only thing that calmed him when he was frightened.
But when she opened the top drawer, she stopped.
A small green metal tin lay open.
Inside were three old photographs and a folded birthday card.
Something was missing.
Norah searched beneath the clothes.
Then under the bed.
Then behind the dresser.
“No.”
Ethan appeared in the doorway.
“What is it?”
“My father's watch.”
She held up the empty tin.
“He gave it to me before he died. A brass pocket watch. It stopped working the night of the fire.”
“Are you certain it was here?”
“I saw it yesterday.”
Sam reached toward the drawer.
“Tick-tock.”
Norah looked at him.
“That's right, sweetheart. Grandpa's tick-tock.”
The little boy pointed toward the window.
“Gray man.”
Ethan crouched.
“What did the gray man do, buddy?”
Sam stretched out his hand.
“Took tick-tock.”
Norah felt cold all over.
Someone had entered her apartment and stolen the one possession she had left from her father.
But why?
Ethan turned toward the green tin.
A photograph had slipped beneath its lid.
He picked it up.
Three men stood outside a brick warehouse, smiling beneath a sign that read HAYES COLD STORAGE.
Norah's father stood on the left.
Gregory stood on the right.
And between them was a much younger Ethan Hayes.
Norah stared at the picture.
“You knew my father.”
Ethan's face had gone pale.
“Yes.”
“Then why did you tell me you didn't know who I was?”
“Because I didn't know Daniel had a daughter named Norah.”
She looked from the photograph to his face.
“What happened to my father?”
Ethan lowered his eyes.
For the first time that evening, the powerful Mafia boss seemed unable to speak.
May you like
Finally, he said something that made Norah step backward.
“The night your father died, I was the man who ordered that warehouse closed.”
