Andrew did not shout.
Grace would later realize that was when he became most dangerous.
When he was angry enough to frighten everyone else, he became quieter.
“Who took him?”
Marco shook his head.
“Two men entered wearing paramedic uniforms. They had valid credentials and the correct transfer authorization.”
“Who authorized it?”
“You did.”
Andrew stared at him.
Marco turned the tablet around.
The signature looked perfect.
Andrew’s authorization code was correct.
Vincent knew both.
“Camera footage?”
“Already pulling it.”
Grace stood near the doorway.
“Andrew.”
He turned.
“What?”
“Daniel was barely stable.”
“I know.”
“If they stop his medication incorrectly—”
“I know.”
She stepped closer.
“Then we need to think like nurses, not criminals.”
Luca looked at her.
Andrew did too.
“What do you mean?”
“They kept Daniel sedated for nine years. That means they need somebody who knows exactly what he was receiving.”
“Ashwood.”
“Yes.”
Grace pointed toward the screen.
“Who controlled Daniel’s treatment?”
Andrew understood.
“His doctor.”
Dr. Samuel Kessler lived in Queens.
Andrew’s people reached his apartment in twenty minutes.
Empty.
Grace searched the bathroom.
Toothbrush gone.
Medication gone.
Suitcase gone.
“He knew this was coming.”
Andrew checked his phone.
Marco had traced Kessler’s vehicle.
It had crossed into New Jersey ninety minutes earlier.
Then Grace saw something on the kitchen counter.
A prescription pad.
The top sheet had been torn away, but pressure marks remained beneath it.
She tilted the paper toward the light.
“Andrew.”
He came closer.
She could make out three words.
Hudson.
Mill.
Road.
Marco searched.
There was an abandoned rehabilitation center on Hudson Mill Road outside Fort Lee.
Andrew assembled his people.
Grace grabbed her coat.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Daniel needs medical care.”
“I’ll bring a doctor.”
“A doctor who knows his condition?”
Andrew hesitated.
Grace stepped closer.
“I kept him alive when they were trying to keep him unconscious. I know what he was receiving. You need me.”
Andrew hated that she was right.
“Stay behind me.”
“I’m not seven.”
“Your daughter already gives me enough trouble.”
Despite everything, Grace almost smiled.
They found Daniel before dawn.
Vincent was not there.
Kessler was.
The doctor surrendered almost immediately.
Daniel lay in a treatment room connected to monitors.
Grace rushed to him.
“Daniel?”
His pulse was irregular.
Grace checked the medication line.
“What did you give him?”
Kessler hesitated.
Andrew grabbed the doctor by his collar.
Grace snapped, “Andrew, let him answer.”
Andrew released him.
Kessler named the medication.
Grace swore.
“Get me saline.”
For twenty minutes, the room belonged to Grace.
Andrew watched her work.
No hesitation.
No panic.
She spoke to Daniel even when he could not answer.
“You are not disappearing again, okay? Your brother is already impossible. I’m not dealing with him alone.”
Andrew looked offended.
Luca whispered, “She’s not wrong.”
Eventually Daniel’s heart rate stabilized.
His eyes opened.
Grace exhaled.
“There you are.”
Daniel looked at Andrew.
“You keep losing me.”
Andrew pulled a chair beside him.
“Starting to think you’re doing it for attention.”
Daniel smiled weakly.
Then his expression changed.
“Vincent.”
“Where?”
“He was here.”
Andrew leaned closer.
“What did he want?”
“The ledger.”
“Why?”
“Page forty-seven.”
Grace looked at Andrew.
Daniel noticed.
“You know.”
“Grace told me.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“What’s on page forty-seven?” Andrew asked.
Daniel was silent.
“Danny.”
“Our mother.”
Andrew froze.
Their mother, Catherine Mercer, had died when Andrew was twelve and Daniel was seven.
Car accident.
At least, that was what Andrew had always believed.
Daniel spoke slowly.
“Dad found evidence years later. Moretti ordered the crash.”
Andrew’s face went blank.
“Why?”
“Dad was trying to leave a partnership with Carlo Moretti.”
Andrew stood.
“No.”
“Andy.”
“No.”
“Page forty-seven has the payment.”
Andrew walked away.
Grace watched him.
For the first time, she understood something about the feared Andrew Mercer.
His power had been built around losses.
A mother at twelve.
A brother at twenty-eight.
A father years later.
Every loss had taught him the same lesson: protect what remained by becoming harder than whatever threatened it.
But hardness had not saved Daniel.
It had only made Andrew lonelier.
Grace approached him.
“I’m sorry.”
He stared through the window.
“I spent nine years blaming myself for Daniel.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“My last words to him were cruel.”
“Then you have time to say better ones.”
Andrew looked at her.
Grace held his gaze.
“That’s what being alive gives us.”
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Marco entered.
“We have another problem.”
Andrew almost laughed.
“Of course we do.”
“Peter Voss made bail.”
Grace stiffened.
“How?”
“Charges haven’t been filed.”
“Why not?”
“Because the people holding him weren’t police.”
Grace stared at Andrew.
Andrew did not apologize.
“We needed answers.”
“And did you get them?”
“Some.”
“Then where is he?”
“Gone.”
Grace looked toward Daniel.
“We need the ledger.”
Andrew nodded.
This time Grace agreed.
The safe-deposit box was at a small bank in Brooklyn Heights.
Inside was the red leather ledger.
Andrew touched the cover.
His father’s initials were stamped into the corner.
Grace placed her hand over it.
“Our agreement.”
Andrew looked at her.
“Copies go to authorities.”
“Yes.”
“And Arthur Bell’s case.”
“We expose it.”
“And Ashwood.”
“Everything.”
Grace removed her hand.
Andrew opened the ledger.
Page forty-seven contained a payment from Moretti to a man named Harold Crane three days before Catherine Mercer’s fatal crash.
Andrew remembered Crane.
His mother’s driver.
He had disappeared afterward.
But another notation appeared beneath it.
AUTHORIZED: C.M.
Carlo Moretti.
Andrew closed his eyes.
Then Grace noticed something else.
A loose sheet hidden inside the binding.
She unfolded it.
It was a letter.
Andrew recognized his father’s handwriting.
Andrew,
If you are reading this, I failed to repair what my choices destroyed.
Daniel is alive.
Vincent betrayed him, but I created the world that taught Vincent betrayal was strength.
Do not make my mistake.
Do not confuse vengeance with justice.
Bring your brother home.
Then get both of you out.
Andrew read the final sentence twice.
Get both of you out.
His father had wanted the Mercer brothers to leave the life that had consumed their family.
Daniel watched Andrew read the letter later that evening.
“You knew?”
“Some of it.”
“You could’ve told me.”
“I tried nine years ago.”
Andrew looked down.
Daniel continued.
“You wouldn’t listen.”
“I know.”
“You might now.”
Andrew gave a tired smile.
“Don’t push it.”
Grace entered with Ivy.
The little girl ran to Daniel’s bedside.
“Are you Uncle Daniel?”
Daniel looked at Andrew.
“Uncle?”
Ivy nodded.
“Mr. Andrew says you’re his brother, and Mommy says Mr. Andrew is helping us, so that means you’re kind of Uncle Daniel.”
Daniel considered this logic.
“Seems airtight.”
Ivy climbed carefully onto the chair.
“I’m Ivy.”
“I’ve heard.”
“I saved you.”
Daniel smiled.
“I heard that too.”
“I hired Mr. Andrew.”
“Best decision he’s made in years.”
Andrew sighed.
For the first time in nine years, the brothers laughed together.
Grace watched them.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered cautiously.
“Hello?”
Peter Voss spoke.
“Congratulations, Grace.”
Her smile disappeared.
“You found the ledger.”
Andrew stood.
Peter continued.
“Now bring it to me.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll take something else.”
Grace looked immediately at Ivy.
Ivy was beside her.
Safe.
Peter laughed softly.
“Not your daughter.”
Grace frowned.
“Then what?”
“Your grandfather.”
Grace stopped breathing.
Arthur Bell was supposed to have died three days earlier.
Peter spoke again.
“He isn’t dead, Grace.”
Andrew heard enough to understand.
Peter continued.
“We faked that too.”
Grace’s knees weakened.
“Why?”
“Because dead men don’t challenge property transfers.”
“Where is he?”
“You want Arthur alive?”
Peter’s voice hardened.
“Bring page forty-seven and come marry me.”
The call ended.
Grace stared at Andrew.
Andrew shook his head.
“No.”
“He’s my grandfather.”
“It’s a trap.”
“I know.”
“You’re not going.”
Grace looked at him.
“You promised my daughter you’d save her mother.”
“I did.”
“Then help me save my family.”
Andrew’s jaw tightened.
Grace stepped closer.
“I am not asking you to fight for me.”
“What are you asking?”
“Stand beside me.”
Andrew looked at Daniel.
Then at Ivy.
Then at the five-dollar bill he still carried in his pocket.
“Fine.”
Grace exhaled.
“But you’re not marrying Peter Voss.”
For the first time since her kidnapping, Grace smiled.
“No.”
Andrew’s eyes hardened.
“We’re going to make him believe I’ll let you.”