Sometimes, when money ran short, she diluted what little formula remained. Other nights, she made difficult choices between heating their apartment and buying groceries.
Ethan remembered almost nothing about those years directly, but he remembered the stories his mother told him when he grew older.
He remembered the winter she had walked three blocks through a snowstorm to borrow money for medicine.
He remembered the shame in her voice when she admitted how frightened she had been.
And he remembered the one sentence she repeated whenever he complained that the world was unfair.
“Never become so successful, Ethan, that you forget what it feels like to need someone.”
He had carried those words into adulthood.
Yet somewhere between building Mercer Capital and becoming the man whose signature could move millions of dollars, he had become very good at protecting himself from other people’s problems.
He looked down at the phone again.
