Morning, sugar. Who’s your friend, he asked. This is Mr. E, Anna said proudly.
He’s helping me sell candy. You pick good company, Torres said. Eyeing Ethan’s face, you look familiar.
Ethan’s stomach tightened, probably from TV. Anna said innocently, he’s kind of famous. Ethan forced a laugh, not anymore.
Torres studied him for a second, then shrugged. Fame don’t buy peace, he said. Coffee’s on the house if you want.
Ethan smiled gratefully. Inside the bodega, the air was thick with the scent of ground coffee and old wood. As they sat by the window, Anna unwrapped a lollipop.
Mr. E, she said suddenly, why were you on that bridge? Ethan looked at her small, serious face. Because I thought I’d lost everything, he said softly. Did you? She asked.
Not anymore, he replied. Anna thought about that, then nodded. Good, cuz mama used to say, when you think you’ve lost everything, that’s when God starts showing you what really matters.
Ethan’s throat tightened. Your mama must have been something special. She was, Anna said proudly.
She used to work at the big building downtown. Said one day I’d see it and remember her. What building, Ethan asked, suddenly curious.
The glass one with the blue lights, Anna said. Vitacorp, I think, you heard of it? Ethan froze, his pulse spiked. Your mother worked there? Uh-huh, she said her boss was real smart but real tired all the time.
She liked him though, said he wanted to help people. Ethan’s hand trembled around his coffee cup. Do you remember his name? Anna frowned, thinking hard.
Mr. Sanders, maybe? Or Mr. Walker? Yeah, Mr. Walker. She said he was good, even if folks didn’t see it yet. Ethan’s heart stopped.
Your mother worked for me? Anna blinked. You were her boss? Ethan leaned back, dizzy. I may be.
What was her name? Janelle Johnson, Anna said softly. You knew her? Ethan’s eyes filled with tears. Janelle, he remembered her a quiet, efficient assistant with a warm laugh and sharp mind.
She’d worked for Greg Sanders before transferring to Ethan’s department. She’d left suddenly a year ago, after a family emergency. He’d never asked why.
Now, he knew. She was a good woman, he whispered. A really good woman, Anna smiled faintly.
She said you were good too. Ethan swallowed the lump in his throat. The coincidence or fate was too powerful to ignore.
The child who’d saved his life was the daughter of a woman he had once employed and respected. Mr. E? Anna’s voice was gentle. You okay? He nodded slowly.
Yeah, kid. I’m just realizing how small the world really is. When they returned to the apartment, Loretta was folding laundry by the window.
Ethan told her what Anna had said. The older woman paused, eyes softening. So you were Janelle’s boss? Lord, that explains everything.
Everything? Ethan asked. She used to talk about you, Loretta said. Said her boss was kind, but the people above him were snakes.
When she quit, she said she couldn’t stand watching good men take the fall for bad ones. Ethan’s chest tightened. Did she ever mention Greg Sanders? That the one with the fake smile, Loretta asked.
She didn’t trust him, said he had a way of twisting truth till it screamed. Ethan sank into a chair, his mind racing. She must have known something, something Greg didn’t want getting out.
Loretta watched him closely. You think that mess that ruined your life might be tied to her? It’s possible, he said. And if it is, then I owe Janelle more than I can ever repay.
Anna climbed onto his knee. Then maybe God put us in your path so you could fix it, she said simply. Ethan looked at her, this little girl with faith bigger than the world, and nodded.
Maybe he did. That night, as Harlem lights shimmered through the window, Ethan sat alone at the kitchen table, staring at the candy bar Anna had given him on the bridge. It was half melted now, the wrapper torn, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away.
It was his reminder the moment his life had turned. He thought of Janelle, of Greg, of the company he’d built for good, and watched burn from greed. He had a reason now, not just to live but to fight.
He didn’t know how yet. But he would. Because for the first time in months, he wasn’t just surviving.
He was beginning again. Ethan barely slept, every time he closed his eyes. He saw Janelle’s face, her calm expression, as she carried files into meetings, the quiet kindness she showed to everyone.
He remembered the day she quit. She’d look tired, but peaceful. As if she’d made a hard decision she could live with.
He hadn’t asked questions then, now he wished he had. The next morning, the city woke before the Sunday car horns, delivery trucks, and street vendors filled the air with noise and movement. Ethan stood by the window in Loretta’s kitchen, a mug of coffee cooling in his hand, staring at the skyline that once belonged to him.
Loretta walked in, tying her robe. You look like a man with ghosts for company. I think I am, Ethan said quietly.
Janelle Anna’s mom, she worked for me. She might have known something about Greg’s fraud. I can’t stop thinking about it.
Loretta poured herself some tea and sat down. Then maybe it’s time you stop thinking and start asking. He turned toward her.
You think she left something behind? People who die sudden always do, Loretta said softly. Sometimes it’s money. Sometimes a memory.
Sometimes a mess to clean up. But there’s always something. Anna patted into the room, hair messy, holding her stuffed rabbit by the ear.
Morning, Mr. E, she mumbled. Morning, kid, Ethan said with a smile. Sleep okay? She nodded and climbed into a chair.
I dreamed about Mama. She was laughing. She said you were gonna help her finish something.
Ethan felt his stomach drop. Did she say what? Nope, Anna said yawning. Just that.
Loretta gave him a knowing look. Sounds like you got your marching orders. After breakfast, Ethan pulled on his coat and told Loretta he needed to check something.
She didn’t ask where. You’ll be careful, was all she said. He took the subway downtown.
The Vitacorp building rose above the city like a monument to his former life glass, chrome, and steel, sleek and silent. The last time he’d been here, it was crawling with federal agents. Now it was ghostly, half-empty, with security guards watching him as he lingered outside.
He couldn’t go in. His credentials were revoked. But he didn’t need to.
Across the street was a cafe where Janelle used to get her coffee every morning he remembered because she always brought him one too, extra sugar. He sat at a corner table, staring out the window at the building he’d built. He thought of the people inside the few who’d stayed after the scandal and wondered how many still believed he was guilty.
A voice interrupted his thoughts. You look like a man trying to make peace with ghosts. Ethan looked up.
It was Jennifer Price, the investigative journalist who had covered his downfall. Her sharp eyes missed nothing. She looked older now.
Or maybe just more tired. Jennifer, he said cautiously. Didn’t expect to see you here.
I could say the same, she replied. Sliding into the seat across from him. I thought you disappeared.
I almost did, he said quietly. But something pulled me back. Her expression softened.
Rumor was, you were innocent. But Greg Sanders made sure that story never saw daylight. You always had good instincts, Ethan said.
That’s why I need your help. She leaned in. I’m listening.
Janelle Johnson, he said. She used to work for me. Died of heart failure last year.
Her daughter Anna found me on the bridge. She’s the one who stopped me that night. Jennifer blinked.
Wait. The little girl from Harlem? Yes. Her mother may have known something about the fraud.
Something she never got the chance to share. Jennifer’s eyes narrowed. You think she left evidence? I don’t know.
But I owe it to her and to myself to find out. Jennifer nodded slowly. I’ll look into it…
