Chapter 2: The Call
1552 Words
Ethan woke to the sound of his alarm blaring at 6:30 a.m. His body ached and his eyes felt heavy, but he forced himself out of bed. The apartment was quiet, with early morning light filtering through the thin curtains. Sarah was already gone, her shift at the hospital starting before dawn. Ethan rubbed his face, recalling the events of last night—the fundraiser with Ava and that strange letter.
He shuffled to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee from the pot Sarah always left brewing. The envelope sat on the coffee table, looking out of place among the bills and junk mail. He picked it up and reread the words. Victor Langston. New York. Matter of great importance. It still didn’t make sense. Ethan wasn’t anyone special. Why would some high-profile businessman want to meet him?
He set the letter down and got ready for the day, pulling on his coveralls for another shift at the garage. But the letter kept nagging at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch. By the time he arrived at Tony’s shop, he’d made up his mind. He’d call the number. If it was a scam, he’d know right away. If it wasn’t, he’d figure that out later.
The garage was already busy when he walked in. Tony was yelling at a new guy about a messed-up oil change, and the radio played some old rock song. Ethan clocked in and got to work on a pickup truck with a busted transmission. His hands moved on autopilot, but his thoughts were elsewhere. At his first break, he stepped outside to the alley behind the shop, where it was quiet enough to think.
He pulled out his phone and the letter, dialing the number. It rang twice before a clear voice answered.
“Kline & Associates, this is Robert Kline.”
Ethan froze for a moment, not expecting the lawyer himself to pick up. “Uh, hi. This is Ethan Grey. I got your letter.”
There was a pause, then Kline’s voice warmed. “Mr. Grey, thank you for calling. I’ve been hoping to hear from you. Can we discuss the matter in person? It’s sensitive.”
Ethan frowned and leaned against the brick wall. “Look, I don’t know what this is about. Who’s Victor Langston, and why does he want to meet me?”
“I understand your hesitation,” Kline said. “Mr. Langston is a businessman with significant influence. He has personal reasons for wanting to meet you, but I’d prefer to explain in person. Can you come to New York? We’ll cover all expenses of the flight, hotel, everything.”
Ethan’s gut twisted. New York? He’d never left Chicago except for a school trip to Milwaukee. “I have work. I can’t just drop everything.”
“I assure you, Mr. Grey, this is worth your time. Mr. Langston is prepared to compensate you for any lost wages.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. This guy sounded credible, but it still felt off. “I need more than that. Why me? I don’t know this Langston guy.”
Kline hesitated before saying, “Mr. Langston believes you’re connected to his past. I can’t say more over the phone. Please, consider the trip. It could change your life.”
Ethan stared at the cracked pavement, his mind racing. Change his life? Life was hard, but it was his. Still, the idea of answers pulled at him. “Fine. I’ll think about it. When do you need an answer?”
“By tomorrow, if possible,” Kline said. “I’ll send details for a flight this weekend. Call me if you decide to come.”
“Yeah, okay,” Ethan said and hung up. He shoved the phone in his pocket, his head spinning. He didn’t trust Kline yet, but the call felt real. Too real.
Back in the garage, he threw himself into work, trying to drown out his thoughts. But the letter, Kline’s voice, and the name Victor Langston wouldn’t leave him alone. By lunch, he was distracted, dropping a wrench and cursing under his breath.
“You okay, man?” Jamal asked. He showed up with a sandwich from the diner across the street. He tossed it to Ethan, who caught it with one hand.
“Just tired,” Ethan lied, unwrapping the sandwich. He didn’t want to tell Jamal about the letter yet. It felt too big, too weird.
Jamal raised an eyebrow. “You look like you saw a ghost. Spill it.”
Ethan sighed and took a bite of the sandwich. “Got a weird letter last night. Some lawyer wants me to go to New York to meet a guy named Victor Langston. Says it’s important.”
Jamal’s eyes widened. “New York? Like skyscrapers and taxis in New York? Who’s this Langston guy?”
“No clue,” Ethan said. “Never heard of him. The lawyer wouldn’t say much, just that it’s personal.”
Jamal leaned back, whistling. “Sounds like a movie. What if he’s, like, a mob boss or something?”
Ethan laughed, but it was forced. “Yeah, right. Probably just a mistake.”
“Or maybe he’s got money,” Jamal said, grinning. “You could be a secret prince or something.”
“Shut up,” Ethan said, lightly pushing him. But the idea lingered, ridiculous as it was. He finished his sandwich and got back to work, but the thought of New York hung in the air.
That evening, Ethan biked home after his delivery shift, the letter weighing heavily in his pocket. Sarah was in the kitchen when he walked in, stirring a pot of soup. She looked tired, her face pale, but she smiled when she saw him.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she said. “How was your day?”
“Same old,” Ethan said, dropping his bag. He wanted to tell her about the letter, but something stopped him. Sarah had never talked about his father. Anytime he’d asked as a kid, she’d changed the subject. If this Langston guy was connected to her past, she might know something. But she might not want to talk about it.
They ate dinner together—chicken noodle soup and day-old bread. Sarah talked about the hospital, a patient who had made her laugh, but Ethan barely listened. His eyes kept drifting to the letter, now tucked under a stack of bills.
“Ethan, you’re quiet,” Sarah said, setting down her spoon. “Something wrong?”
He hesitated, then pulled out the letter and slid it across the table. “Got this yesterday. Some lawyer wants me to go to New York to meet a guy named Victor Langston. Do you know who that is?”
Sarah’s face changed for a second. Her eyes widened, and her hand froze on the table. Then she looked down and picked up her spoon again. “No idea,” she said too quickly. “Probably a scam. People send those all the time.”
Ethan watched her, his stomach sinking. She was lying. He’d seen that look before when she didn’t want to talk about his dad. “Mom, if you know something, tell me. This guy’s offering to pay for everything. It’s not nothing.”
Sarah stood and cleared the dishes. “Ethan, you don’t need to chase some stranger’s promises. You’ve got enough on your plate.”
“Mom,” he said, his voice sharper than he meant. “If this is about Dad, I deserve to know.”
She froze, her back to him. The silence stretched. Finally, she turned, her eyes tired but firm. “Your father’s gone, Ethan. He left us a long time ago. Don’t go digging up the past.”
Ethan clenched his fists under the table. “This isn’t the past. This is now. If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself.”
Sarah’s face softened, but she didn’t budge. “Do what you have to, but be careful. Some things are better left alone.”
Ethan stood, grabbing the letter. “I’m going to New York. I need answers.”
She didn’t stop him as he walked to his room, but he felt her eyes on his back. He sat on his bed, staring at the letter. Sarah’s reaction proved it—Victor Langston wasn’t just some random name. He was tied to her, to Ethan’s father, to something she’d kept hidden his whole life.
He texted Kline: *I’m in. Send the details.*
The reply came quickly: Excellent. Flight booked for Saturday, 8 a.m. Details to follow. Thank you, Mr. Grey.
Ethan set the phone down, his heart pounding. Saturday was two days away. Two days until he stepped into a world he didn’t understand. He thought of Ava, her smile at the fundraiser, and wondered what she’d think of this. He thought of Maya, too, and how she’d left him when things got tough. Would she care about this Langston guy? Probably, if he had money.
He lay back, staring at the ceiling. His life was about to change, and he could feel it. But whether it was for better or worse, he didn’t know. All he knew was he couldn’t stay in the dark anymore.
- Writer
