Chapter 1 - The Seventy-Seven Days My Mother Worked for FreeDavid Sterling stopped smiling when Vincent Kane picked up my mother's work log.
I didn't understand why.
To me, it was only a piece of paper.
Mom had written numbers on it every night because she said numbers didn't cry, forget, or get scared.
She had worked seventy-seven days without receiving a paycheck.
I knew that because I'd watched her cross dates off the calendar.
One.
Two.
Three.
By the time she reached seventy-seven, the little red pen she used had stopped working.
She had pressed so hard that the paper tore.
I remembered that night.
She had been sitting at our kitchen table after midnight, staring at the empty refrigerator.
I had crawled out of bed because my stomach hurt.
“Mom?”
She quickly wiped her face.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”
“Are we having dinner?”
She looked toward the refrigerator.
Then she smiled.
“We'll have something tomorrow.”
Tomorrow had become Mom's favorite word.
Tomorrow, Mr. Sterling would pay her.
Tomorrow, groceries would come.
Tomorrow, the electricity bill would be handled.
Tomorrow, she wouldn't have to choose between rent and food.
But tomorrow kept moving farther away.
So that morning, when Mom brought me to Sterling's Bistro because the babysitter had canceled, I made my own plan.
I didn't tell her.
I knew she would say no.
At lunchtime, while she carried trays through the kitchen, I slipped my mother's folded work log into my red hoodie.
Then I walked into the dining room.
I had never seen so many men in black suits.
Vincent Kane sat in the back corner.
He looked nothing like the monsters people whispered about.
He didn't shout.
He didn't threaten anyone.
He didn't even move much.
That was what frightened people.
Seven men protected him.
I counted them carefully.
One near the entrance.
Two beside the bar.
One near the kitchen.
Two behind his chair.
One by the private elevator.
Seven.
I walked past all of them.
Nobody stopped me.
Maybe they thought I was somebody's child.
Maybe they were too shocked to understand what I was doing.
Vincent looked at me.
“Are you talking to me?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
I nodded.
“You're the only person nobody laughs around.”
One of his men looked away.
I continued.
“My mom says that means you're the real boss.”
Vincent stared at me for several seconds.
Then he moved his glass aside.
“What do you want?”
I placed the paper on his table.
“My mom's money.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“How much?”
I pointed.
“Five thousand four hundred thirty dollars and thirty cents.”
Vincent read the page.
His expression changed.
“Who owes her this?”
I pointed across the restaurant.
David Sterling stood at the bar.
He was wearing a new watch.
His Porsche keys spun around his finger.
He was laughing with two investors.
Vincent followed my gaze.
Then he looked back at the paper.
“How long?”
“Seventy-seven days.”
“Who told you that?”
“Mom.”
“And why are you asking me?”
I shrugged.
“Because nobody made him pay.”
Vincent leaned back.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he pointed at the purple stars covering the page.
“What are these?”
I smiled sadly.
“I drew those.”
“What do they mean?”
I looked down.
“They're nights we didn't eat dinner.”
The room became so quiet I could hear the ice moving inside Vincent's glass.
He picked up the paper again.
His thumb stopped over the first purple star.
“How many?”
“Eleven.”
“Eleven dinners?”
I nodded.
Then I heard a chair scrape.
David Sterling had finally noticed us.
His Porsche keys slipped from his hand.
They struck the floor.
He stared at Vincent.
Then at me.
Then at the paper.
His face turned white.
Vincent slowly stood.
David swallowed.
“Mr. Kane.”
Vincent didn't answer.
David approached cautiously.
“That child shouldn't be bothering you.”
Vincent's eyes hardened.
“Her mother has been working for you for seventy-seven days.”
David forced a smile.
“There must be some misunderstanding.”
Vincent held up the paper.
“Five thousand four hundred thirty dollars.”
“I was going to pay her.”
“When?”
“Next week.”
Vincent looked at him.
“You told her that last week.”
David's smile vanished.
“How do you know that?”
Vincent's voice became quiet.
“I know everything that happens in my city.”
David looked toward his employees.
Nobody moved.
Then Vincent looked down at me.
“Rory.”
“Yes?”
“Did your mother send you?”
“No.”
“Does she know you're here?”
I shook my head.
“She thinks I'm in the bathroom.”
For the first time, Vincent almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his expression became serious again.
“Does your mother know you haven't eaten?”
I didn't answer.
That was enough.
Vincent turned toward one of his guards.
“Bring food.”
David immediately protested.
“This is a private business matter.”
Vincent ignored him.
“Bring enough for two.”
Then he looked at me.
“Your mother is eating too.”
I blinked.
“She's working.”
“She can stop.”
David stepped forward.
“She can't leave the kitchen during service.”
Vincent finally looked at him.
“Then service can wait.”
The entire restaurant froze.
David lowered his eyes.
Vincent sat down again.
He folded my mother's work log carefully.
“Rory.”
“Yes?”
“Do you trust your mother?”
“Yes.”
“Does she trust Mr. Sterling?”
I thought about it.
“No.”
Vincent's eyes sharpened.
“Why?”
“She says he smiles when he's lying.”
Something changed in his face.
He glanced toward David.
Then back at me.
“Your mother is smarter than she knows.”
A minute later, Mom came rushing out of the kitchen.
Her face was pale.
“Rory!”
She dropped to her knees beside me.
“What are you doing?”
“I got your money.”
She looked at Vincent.
Then at David.
Then at the work log lying on the table.
Her expression changed.
“Rory…”
Vincent pushed the paper toward her.
“You worked seventy-seven days without pay?”
Mom swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed the job.”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“Did you threaten to quit?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Mom looked at me.
“Because my daughter needs food.”
Silence.
Vincent looked at David.
Then he said the words that changed our lives.
“Pay her.”
David stared.
“Today?”
Vincent's gaze became ice.
“Every dollar.”
David nodded quickly.
“Yes, sir.”
But Vincent wasn't finished.
He looked at the work log again.
“You've been keeping records?”
Mom nodded.
“For everything.”
“Good.”
He stood.
“Keep doing it.”
Then he leaned closer to David.
“And from this moment forward, nobody in this city touches Lydia Carter's paycheck.”
I thought it was over.
I thought Mom would get her money.
I thought we would go home.
I was wrong.
Because as Vincent walked away, one of his guards quietly picked up another document that had fallen from David's briefcase.
The man's face changed.
He handed it to Vincent.
Vincent read the first line.
Then the second.
His expression became terrifying.
He looked at Mom.
“Lydia.”
She froze.
“Yes?”
“Where did your husband go?”
Mom's face lost all color.
Because my father had been missing for four years.
May you like
And apparently…
Vincent Kane knew his name.
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