I would advise you to think carefully about your next steps. There are people who have spent their entire lives protecting the Hale family's reputation.
Sarah looked over her shoulder.
Then perhaps they should have spent more time protecting the people in it.
She left.
Outside the building, Sarah called Jack.
I'm fine.
He exhaled sharply.
That's not what I asked.
I know.
What happened?
She told him about the meeting, the documents, and Frank's reaction when she mentioned the baby.
Jack listened.
When she finished, he said, "He knows more than he's telling you."
I know.
Did he threaten you?
Not directly.
Sarah—
He offered to reduce my rent.
Jack went silent.
What?
He said he could arrange an extension.
Why?
I asked him that. He didn't answer.
Jack swore under his breath.
That's how he works. He makes people dependent on him, then uses the dependency to control them.
Sarah looked back at the glass building.
Then I'm not going to depend on him.
Good.
I'm going to find out what happened to my mother.
Jack's voice softened.
Then we do it properly.
She nodded, though he couldn't see her.
Together?
Together.
That evening, Maggie discovered that the employment offer Sarah had received from the parts distributor had mysteriously disappeared.
The manager called to apologize.
I'm sorry, Sarah. We had a change in staffing.
What does that mean?
It means the position is no longer available.
You offered me the job last week.
I know.
Did someone tell you not to hire me?
The manager hesitated.
Sarah felt the answer before he gave it.
I can't discuss internal decisions.
She thanked him and hung up.
Then she called Jack.
He was quiet for a long time after she explained.
Finally, he said, "That's enough."
Jack, don't do anything stupid.
I'm not going to hurt anyone.
That's not what I meant.
I know.
She heard him take a breath.
Frank is using your financial situation to pressure you. That makes the job issue part of the same pattern.
What can we do?
Document everything. The threats, the calls, the job offer, the meeting. Walter can help you report it.
Sarah looked at the pile of bills on the counter.
For the first time, she realized that the financial problems she had thought were separate might be connected to the same person.
Frank Delaney controlled the building where she lived.
He had influence over local businesses.
And he knew something about her mother that he was desperate to keep hidden.
Sarah sat down.
I feel like I'm trapped.
Jack's voice was steady.
Then we find the door.
She closed her eyes.
Outside, the oak tree swayed in the evening wind.
Beneath its branches, a small pink bicycle stood beside the porch, its purple streamers moving gently in the breeze.
Sarah looked at it and remembered Lily's sign.
Five dollars.
That was what her daughter had believed her childhood was worth.
Sarah had spent years teaching Lily that she could become anything she wanted if she worked hard enough.
Now she understood that hard work wasn't always enough.
Sometimes people used power to keep others small.
Sometimes they used fear.
And sometimes they used secrets.
But Sarah had made a decision.
She would not allow Frank Delaney to decide what her life was worth.
Not again.
Jack had avoided Frank Delaney for thirty-four years.
Not because he was afraid of him.
Because he had believed there was nothing left to say.
Now he understood that silence had been Frank's greatest weapon.
So Jack went to the Delaney office.
He arrived on Wednesday afternoon wearing his leather vest and carrying the old letter from David Hale.
The receptionist recognized him from the newspaper photographs of the Road Saints' charity events.
Mr. Sullivan, do you have an appointment?
No.
Mr. Delaney is in a meeting.
I'll wait.
She hesitated.
Then she picked up the phone.
Five minutes later, Frank appeared in the doorway.
Jack.
Frank.
For a moment, the two men simply stared at each other.
Frank had aged well. His suit fit perfectly, his hair was neatly combed, and his expression suggested that nothing in the world could surprise him.
Jack had become broader, rougher, and more comfortable with his scars.
They were both men who had spent their lives learning how to conceal what they felt.
Frank gestured toward his office.
Come in.
Jack followed him inside.
The office was decorated with framed photographs of buildings, certificates, and awards. Behind the desk hung a large painting of the Missouri countryside.
Frank closed the door.
What brings you here?
Jack placed the letter on the desk.
Explain this.
Frank glanced at it.
An old letter.
From David Hale.
Yes.
It says Rebecca and her baby died.
Frank folded his hands.
That's what David believed.
Jack stared at him.
Don't lie to me.
Frank's expression hardened.
Be careful, Jack.
I've spent thirty-four years being careful. It hasn't done me much good.
He leaned forward.
Rebecca was alive when I returned from Montana. She was alive when David told me she had left town. She was alive when he sent me that letter. And she was alive when someone took my letters and kept them from her.
Frank said nothing.
Jack continued.
I know she gave birth to a girl. I know the child was transferred under a private guardianship arrangement. I know you were involved with the Hale family.
Frank's eyes narrowed.
And what exactly do you want from me?
The truth.
Frank laughed softly.
You've always been sentimental.
And you've always mistaken money for power.
The smile vanished.
Jack stood.
Where is the girl who was born on October sixteenth, 1992?
Frank looked at him for a long moment.
Then he said, "You already know."
Jack's blood went cold.
Sarah.
Frank did not answer.
Sarah Carter is Rebecca's daughter.
I didn't say that.
You didn't have to.
Frank rose from his chair.
Your obsession with Rebecca has lasted long enough.
Jack's hands curled into fists.
Don't talk about her.
Why not? You weren't there when she needed you.
The words struck harder than Jack expected.