Chapter 2 - The Name Ronan Never Forgot
Mirabelle read the message twice.
Then a third time.
"Who sent that?"
Nobody answered.
She stood too quickly.
The room tilted.
Ronan moved toward her, but she raised one hand.
"Don't."
He stopped.
Mirabelle pointed at the phone.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know yet."
"You're lying."
Ronan's jaw tightened.
Graham Mercer headed toward the door.
"Brandon. We're leaving."
"No."
Mirabelle's voice stopped him.
Graham turned.
She walked toward him.
Her legs trembled, but she kept moving.
"My mother knew you."
Graham's eyes flickered.
"No."
"You recognized the photograph."
"I recognized Ronan."
"Then look at my mother."
He didn't.
That was enough.
Mirabelle moved closer.
"What did you do to her?"
Brandon stepped between them.
"Watch yourself."
Mirabelle stared at him.
Twenty minutes earlier she had been terrified of Brandon Mercer.
Something had changed.
Maybe humiliation had a bottom.
Once you reached it, there was nowhere left to fall.
"Move."
Brandon laughed.
Then Ronan spoke behind him.
"She said move."
Brandon stepped aside.
Graham adjusted his jacket.
"Your mother worked for my company briefly."
"Doing what?"
"Administrative work."
"She was a waitress."
"People have more than one job."
Mirabelle remembered that.
Her mother had worked constantly.
Sometimes she'd disappear after dinner and return near midnight, saying she'd picked up bookkeeping work.
Mirabelle had been fifteen.
Kellen had been eleven.
She had never questioned it.
"Why didn't she tell us?"
Graham's eyes hardened.
"You should ask your mother."
"She's dead."
For the first time, something resembling guilt appeared on Graham's face.
It vanished quickly.
Ronan stepped forward.
"Leave."
Graham looked at him.
"You don't order me around."
"Tonight I do."
"You think because people are frightened of your reputation—"
"This has nothing to do with my reputation."
Ronan gestured toward Mirabelle.
"Your son restrained a woman and deliberately humiliated her while his friend recorded it. You should be asking whether she's all right."
Graham looked at Brandon.
"Is that true?"
Brandon scoffed.
"She started it."
Graham closed his eyes.
Only for a second.
Then he said, "Give me the phone."
"No," Mirabelle replied.
Everyone looked at her.
She held out her hand toward Ronan's associate.
"Give it to me."
The man looked at Ronan.
Ronan nodded.
Mirabelle took the phone.
Her hands were still shaking.
She opened the recording.
The first image showed Brandon laughing.
She heard herself saying, "I asked you to leave."
Then Brandon's voice.
"Nobody tells me where I can drink."
She stopped the video.
Her stomach turned.
She wanted to smash the phone.
Instead she sent the recording to herself.
Then to the diner's email.
Then to Kellen's old laptop account, the one she knew nobody else used.
Ronan watched without interfering.
When she finished, she gave Tate his phone.
"Thank you," she said.
Tate looked stunned.
"For what?"
"For recording everything."
Brandon lunged for the device.
Tate pulled it away.
"Don't."
Brandon stared at him.
Tate shook his head.
"I'm done."
That surprised everyone.
Especially Brandon.
Graham grabbed his son's arm.
"We're leaving."
This time Ronan allowed them to go.
The door closed.
Their car disappeared into the night.
Mirabelle stared through the glass.
Then she turned to Ronan.
"Now you talk."
He nodded.
They sat in a booth.
Ronan's associates moved outside, giving them privacy.
Tate left after providing his contact information.
The diner became strangely quiet.
Mirabelle wrapped Ronan's overcoat around her shoulders.
She hated that it made her feel safer.
Ronan placed the photograph between them.
"I knew your mother."
"Obviously."
"She saved my life."
Mirabelle frowned.
"From what?"
"Myself, mostly."
That wasn't what she'd expected.
Ronan looked at the photograph.
"I was nineteen. Angry. Broke. I thought the world owed me something."
Mirabelle said nothing.
"Your mother worked nights here. I came in after getting into trouble. She gave me coffee. Then food. Then advice I didn't ask for."
A faint smile touched his face.
"That sounds like her."
"She had a talent for telling people what they didn't want to hear."
Mirabelle almost smiled.
Almost.
"What does this have to do with Kellen?"
Ronan's expression became serious.
"Years later, your mother contacted me."
"When?"
"About six months before she died."
Mirabelle leaned forward.
"Why?"
"She was afraid."
"Of Graham Mercer?"
"She never said his name."
"But you think it was him."
"I think she discovered something involving Mercer Development."
"What?"
"I don't know."
Mirabelle stared at him.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"No."
"Good."
"But I can show you something."
Ronan removed his phone.
He opened a secure folder.
Inside was a scanned letter.
Evelyn Hayes's handwriting.
Mirabelle read slowly.
Ronan,
If anything happens to me, don't let my children become leverage.
Especially Kellen.
He doesn't know.
Mirabelle doesn't know either.
Promise me you won't tell them unless the past comes looking for them first.
E.
Mirabelle's throat tightened.
"Doesn't know what?"
"I don't know."
"You expect me to believe my mother gave you this and you never asked?"
"I asked."
"And?"
"She said knowing would put me in danger too."
Mirabelle laughed bitterly.
"So you obeyed?"
"For six years."
Her eyes snapped toward him.
"You've known where we were?"
"Yes."
"Have you been watching us?"
"From a distance."
Anger surged through her.
"You watched me work fourteen-hour shifts?"
"Yes."
"You watched us almost get evicted?"
Ronan looked down.
"Yes."
"And you didn't help?"
"Your mother made me promise something else."
"What?"
"That I would never turn you into someone who depended on me."
Mirabelle stared.
That sounded exactly like Evelyn.
It made her angrier.
"And tonight?"
"I wasn't supposed to be here."
"Then why were you?"
Ronan hesitated.
"My driver received a message."
He showed her.
STAY AWAY FROM THE STARLIGHT TONIGHT.
Mirabelle frowned.
"Someone warned you not to come?"
"Which is why I came."
She almost laughed.
"Of course."
Ronan's phone rang.
He answered.
One of his associates spoke urgently.
Ronan stood.
"What happened?"
Mirabelle heard only fragments.
House.
Door.
Boy.
Ronan's face changed.
"Kellen."
Mirabelle was already moving.
"What about him?"
Ronan ended the call.
"Someone broke into your apartment."
The blood drained from her face.
"Where's my brother?"
"We don't know."
Mirabelle ran for the door.
Ronan followed.
The drive took nine minutes.
It felt like nine hours.
When they reached Mirabelle's apartment building, the front door to her unit was open.
She ran inside.
"Kellen!"
No answer.
His physics textbook lay open on the kitchen table.
Beside it sat two plates.
He had been waiting for her pie.
Mirabelle's heart broke.
"Kellen!"
She searched his bedroom.
Empty.
Bathroom.
Empty.
Then she noticed something on his pillow.
An envelope.
Her name was written across the front.
MIRABELLE.
She tore it open.
Inside was a photograph of Kellen standing outside his school.
On the back were six words.
ASK RONAN WHO YOUR BROTHER'S FATHER IS.
Mirabelle slowly turned around.
May you like
Ronan stood in the doorway.
And behind him, a floorboard creaked.
