Chapter 1

The Detroit wind cut through Sarah' s thin coat, a familiar enemy.

Snow crunched under her worn boots as she trudged from the hospital, her night shift cleaning floors done.

Another day, another dollar closer to maybe, just maybe, getting ahead.

Debt collectors called her phone like clockwork, student loans for a community college degree she barely used.

A bitter taste filled her mouth, not just from the cheap coffee she' d nursed all night.

It was the memory, sharp and sudden, of her mother, Eleanor.

Five years old, a tiny hand clutching a cheap plastic doll, watching Eleanor' s back as she walked away.

A vague promise, "I'll be back for you, sweetie," and then, nothing for twenty years.

Sarah shook her head, trying to dislodge the image.

No time for that, she had to get to the cashier job at the corner store.

She was almost at her run-down apartment building when a sleek, black SUV pulled up, so out of place it looked like a spaceship.

The tinted window glided down.

Eleanor.

Impeccable, dripping in quiet luxury, not a hair out of place.

Sarah froze, her heart a cold lump in her chest.

"Sarah? Is that you?" Eleanor' s voice was smooth, cultured, a voice Sarah only remembered in faded dreams.

Sarah just stared, her mind blank.

Eleanor opened the car door, stepping out onto the grimy sidewalk.

She looked around, a flicker of distaste crossing her perfect face before she smoothed it away.

"It's been a long time," Eleanor said, attempting a warm smile that didn' t reach her eyes.

"What do you want?" Sarah' s voice was rough, unused to speaking to anyone but customers and her aunt.

Eleanor flinched, just a little. "I... I need to talk to you. It's important. A family crisis."

Family. The word was a joke.

"I don't have a family," Sarah said, her tone flat. She started to walk past.

"Please, Sarah," Eleanor' s voice was suddenly urgent, a crack in the polished surface. "Just hear me out. It' s about... your brother."

Sarah stopped. "Brother? I don't have a brother."

Eleanor' s perfectly manicured hand reached out, then dropped. "It's complicated. Can we go somewhere? Get a coffee?"

Sarah looked at Eleanor' s expensive clothes, the luxury car, then down at her own frayed cuffs.

The contrast was a punch to the gut.

"I'm busy," Sarah said, turning towards her apartment door.

"I' ll make it worth your while," Eleanor said quickly.

Sarah paused, her hand on the doorknob. Twenty years of silence, and now this.

Whatever it was, it smelled like trouble.

And desperation.