Chapter 2
“Not enough.”
He walked away in a white dress shirt and tuxedo pants.
By the time Adrian reached Washington Street, his shirt was soaked through.
His shoes had filled with water.
He tried to hail a cab before remembering he had left his wallet upstairs.
Then he remembered he had left his phone.
For the first time since he was sixteen years old, Adrian Mercer had no money, no driver, no assistant, and no immediate way to prove who he was.
He could have walked into almost any luxury hotel in Boston and given his name.
Someone would have recognized him.
Instead, he kept walking.
He didn’t entirely understand why.
Maybe he was ashamed.
Maybe he wanted silence.
Maybe some part of him wanted to discover what remained when Adrian Mercer, CEO, disappeared.
By evening, his expensive shoes had rubbed the backs of his heels raw.
He sat under an overhang near a closed storefront.
People passed.
Most never looked at him.
One woman pulled her purse closer.
A man in a wool coat glanced at Adrian’s soaked shirt and muttered, “Jesus,” as if Adrian were something unpleasant on the sidewalk.
At 7:40 p.m., Adrian entered a coffee shop.
“Could I possibly have a cup of water?”
The barista looked at his wet clothes.
“Customers only.”
“I don’t have my wallet.”
“Then I’m sorry.”
Adrian almost said, Do you know who I am?
The words rose automatically.
He swallowed them.
“No problem.”
He walked outside.
For thirty-nine years, doors had opened when people heard his last name.
Without it, he discovered how quickly doors closed.
By ten, his body was shaking.
The temperature had dropped into the low forties.
He found an unlocked storage alcove beneath an old office building and slept sitting upright against concrete.
The next morning, Graham’s face appeared on televisions all over the city.
Adrian saw it through the window of an electronics store.
MERCER HEIR MISSING AFTER WEDDING CANCELLED.
His father stood behind microphones.
“Our family is concerned for Adrian’s privacy and well-being. We ask the public not to speculate.”
Vanessa was photographed leaving the hotel beneath an umbrella.
Beautiful.
Heartbroken.
Humiliated.
Adrian stared at the screen.
He should have called.
He knew that.
But something stopped him.
Going back meant returning immediately to the machine.
Lawyers.
Board members.
Publicists.
Explanations.
Damage control.
For once, he wanted to hear his own thoughts before someone else told him what they should be.