Chapter 10
One mother still checked every exit when she entered a room because six frightening days had changed something inside her.
One child still occasionally crawled into Rachel’s bed at night just to make sure she was there.
Nobody pretended healing meant forgetting.
Then Ivy stood on her chair.
Rachel immediately said, “Sit down.”
“I have to make a speech.”
“You are eight.”
“Exactly.”
Andrew leaned back.
“Let her speak.”
Rachel gave him a look.
“You have become a terrible influence.”
Ivy raised her glass of chocolate milk.
“Today is contract day.”
Daniel looked confused.
“What’s contract day?”
“The day I hired Uncle Andrew.”
The entire table became still.
Andrew looked at her.
“Uncle?”
Ivy shrugged.
“You’re basically one now.”
Daniel smiled into his coffee.
Andrew cleared his throat.
“I see.”
Ivy continued.
“I gave him five dollars.”
“We know,” Rachel said.
“And he found Mommy.”
“With considerable assistance,” Andrew added.
“And Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“And Margaret found papers.”
Margaret nodded.
“And Detective Soto found people.”
“Yes.”
“And Mrs. Elellanar made pancakes.”
Mrs. Elellanar looked pleased.
“Correct.”
“And Mommy helped Daniel wake up.”
Rachel’s expression softened.
Ivy took a breath.
“So I think my five dollars did pretty good.”
Everyone laughed.
Andrew reached into his jacket.
“I agree.”
He placed something on the table.
A small frame.
Inside was the original five-dollar bill.
Rachel stared.
“You kept it?”
“Of course.”
“You could spend that.”
“Ivy and I have a contract.”
Ivy lifted the frame.
The faded red writing was still visible on the back.
M.V.
ASK ABOUT ROOM 417.
D.M. IS NOT DEAD.
Beneath the bill was a small engraved plaque.
THE BEST INVESTMENT ANDREW MERCER EVER MADE.
Ivy read it aloud.
Then she grinned.
“I knew five dollars was enough.”
Andrew looked around the table.
Once, he might have measured wealth by property, accounts, influence, and the number of people who returned his calls immediately.
But the most important things in front of him had arrived through means no balance sheet could explain.
A child’s trust.
A nurse’s conscience.
A lawyer willing to face what her husband had hidden.
A brother choosing to try again.
A mother who survived a terrible misunderstanding.
A neighborhood woman who understood that soup, pancakes, and showing up were sometimes the strongest forms of protection.
Daniel nudged Andrew.
“You’re thinking too much.”
“I am not.”
“You’re making the face.”
“What face?”
“The Andrew face.”
Ivy nodded solemnly.
“He does have one.”
Rachel laughed.
Andrew looked around the table.
“I regret introducing any of you.”
“No, you don’t,” Daniel said.
Andrew looked at his brother.
May you like
“No.”
He didn’t.
