Chapter 1 - The Door Opened
Ava stirred in my arms as I whispered, “Please, baby. Not now.”
Reed Callaway stepped into the storage room and looked down at the baby bottle beside my knee.
A crumpled bank receipt was wrapped around it.
Balance: $11.70.
Reed suddenly stopped looking angry.
I had seen Reed Callaway angry before.
Everyone who worked at Callaway’s had.
He never yelled.
That was what made him frightening.
Other men threw glasses, slammed doors, cursed at cooks, threatened waiters, and made spectacles of themselves when something went wrong.
Reed only became quieter.
Once, a supplier had delivered spoiled seafood to the restaurant and tried to blame our kitchen.
Reed had listened to the man for three minutes.
Then he had said, “You should leave.”
The supplier disappeared from our delivery schedule before sunset.
Nobody ever mentioned him again.
So when Reed stood inside the narrow storage room staring at my daughter, I knew silence was worse than shouting.
I pulled Ava closer.
“I can explain.”
His dark eyes moved from my face to the blankets covering my lap.
Ava made a tiny sound.
Reed closed the door behind him.
The latch clicked.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
He remained standing.
Black coat.
Black shirt.
One hand in his pocket.
He looked exactly as he always did when walking through the restaurant—controlled, polished, untouchable.
I looked like I had been dragged through an alley.
Maybe because I had.
Snow had soaked the bottom of my skirt before my shift.
My hair was coming loose.
My hands still hurt from the cold.
And my baby was hidden in the only place I had been certain no one would look.
Until now.
“How old?” Reed asked.
I swallowed.
“Eight months.”
His expression barely changed.
“Her name?”
“Ava.”
He looked at her again.
Ava had stopped feeding and was staring up at me with sleepy blue-gray eyes.
I fixed my blouse as carefully as I could without setting her down.
Embarrassment burned through me even though there was nothing shameful about what I had been doing.
I simply hated being seen desperate.
Desperation made people dangerous.
It also made them disposable.
At Callaway’s, I could not afford to be either.
“You brought an eight-month-old child into my restaurant,” Reed said.
“Yes.”
“Through the kitchen entrance.”
“Yes.”
“Without telling anyone.”
“Yes.”
He crouched slowly.
I flinched before I could stop myself.
Reed noticed.
His jaw tightened.
He didn’t come closer.
Instead, he picked up the bottle.
The bank receipt wrapped around it fell loose.
I reached for it.
Too late.
He read the number.
$11.70.
I wanted the floor to swallow me.
“That isn’t your business,” I said.
His eyes lifted.
Everything in me screamed that I had just spoken to the wrong man in the wrong tone.
But I was tired.
Tired people stopped being careful.
“My employees are my business.”
“My bank account isn’t.”
“Why is she here?”
I looked away.
He waited.
“I couldn’t leave her alone.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I know.”
“Then answer me.”
I stared toward the metal shelves.
Boxes of pasta.
Coffee tins.
Paper napkins.
Oil.
Nothing in that room cared whether I kept my job.
“My sitter quit.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“Why?”
“She didn’t quit exactly.”
Reed’s stare sharpened.
“What does that mean?”
I pressed my lips together.
Ava shifted against me.
I didn’t want to talk about Denise.
I didn’t want to talk about the apartment.
Or the man who had been standing across the street yesterday.
Or the strange phone call asking whether I still worked nights.
Those things belonged in a locked box inside my head.
Because once I opened that box, I might have to admit I was afraid.
“Denise said she couldn’t watch Ava anymore,” I said.
“Why?”
“She wouldn’t explain.”
“And you had no one else?”
“No.”
“Family?”
“No.”
“Friends?”
“Not the kind who can keep a baby for nine hours with no warning.”
Reed looked at the bank receipt again.
“You came to work because you needed the shift.”
“I came to work because missing a shift means losing rent money.”
“How much rent?”
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
“Are you interviewing me for a loan?”
“No.”
“Then stop asking questions.”
A strange expression crossed his face.
Not offense.
Almost surprise.
People probably didn’t tell Reed Callaway to stop doing anything.
I shifted Ava higher against my shoulder.
“If you’re going to fire me, just do it.”
He said nothing.
My throat tightened.
“Please don’t drag it out.”
“Why would I fire you?”
I stared at him.
“Because I smuggled a baby through your kitchen.”
“Smuggled.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
He glanced toward the door.
“Who else knows?”
“No one.”
His eyes returned to mine.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
The answer came too fast.
Because I wasn’t sure.
I had entered through the alley carrying Ava beneath an oversized coat.
One dishwasher had been outside smoking.
He had looked at me.
Maybe he had noticed the movement beneath the fabric.
Maybe not.
I had rushed past him.
Then I had hidden Ava behind stacked linens until the dinner rush began.
After that, I slipped into the storage room whenever I could.
I told myself I was managing.
I told myself mothers managed impossible things every day.
Those were lies desperate people told because the alternative was sitting down and admitting they had no plan.
Reed leaned against the opposite shelf.
“Who’s her father?”
My entire body went cold.
That question was different.
I looked directly at him.
“Why?”
“Simple question.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Is he around?”
“No.”
“Does he know where you work?”
I pulled Ava tighter.
“Why are you asking me that?”
Reed didn’t answer.
The warm light above us buzzed softly.
Something changed in the air.
My fear shifted.
This no longer felt like a boss discovering an employee breaking the rules.
It felt like an interrogation.
“Reed.”
His eyes narrowed slightly at my use of his first name.
“Why are you asking about Ava’s father?”
He glanced toward the door again.
“You came through the alley?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone follow you?”
My mouth went dry.
“No.”
“Think.”
“I did.”
“Think again.”
The man across the street flashed through my mind.
Dark coat.
Baseball cap.
Standing beneath the train tracks.
I had seen him yesterday afternoon.
And two nights before that.
I had told myself Chicago was full of men in dark coats.
I had told myself paranoia was a luxury poor people couldn’t afford.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
Reed became very still.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Elena.”
Hearing my name from him shocked me.
I had worked at Callaway’s for four months.
I didn’t know he knew it.
“There was a man near my building,” I said.
“How many times?”
“Twice.”
“When?”
“Tuesday night. Yesterday afternoon.”
“Description.”
“Average height. Dark coat. Baseball cap.”
“Face?”
“No.”
“Car?”
“I didn’t see one.”
“Did he speak to you?”
“No.”
“Photograph you?”
“I don’t know.”
Reed took out his phone.
I stared.
“What are you doing?”
He typed something.
“Reed.”
“Lock the door after I leave.”
“What?”
“Do not open it unless you hear my voice.”
My pulse jumped.
“What is happening?”
He pocketed the phone.
“I’m finding out.”
I reached for his sleeve before I could think better of it.
He stopped.
“Finding out what?”
He looked at my hand.
I released him.
“Whether the man you saw is connected to anyone I know.”
I almost laughed.
“You know half the criminals in Chicago.”
His eyes met mine.
“More than half.”
That should not have made me feel safer.
Somehow it did.
Then footsteps sounded outside.
Reed’s head turned.
I froze.
Someone stopped directly on the other side of the storage-room door.
Ava began fussing.
I rocked her.
The doorknob moved once.
Locked.
A man’s voice came through the door.
“Elena?”
I stopped breathing.
I recognized the voice.
Derek.
One of the evening managers.
“Elena, you in there?”
Reed lifted one finger.
Silence.
I covered Ava’s back with my hand.
Derek tried the handle again.
“Boss?”
Reed’s expression changed.
“How does he know I’m here?” he murmured.
I stared at him.
“I didn’t tell anyone.”
Derek knocked.
Harder this time.
“Mr. Callaway?”
Reed moved toward the door.
Then Derek said something that drained every drop of blood from my face.
“I think she brought the baby.”
Reed stopped.
Outside, another voice answered.
One I had never heard before.
May you like
A man spoke quietly.
“Good. Then we found the right woman.”
