Chapter 2 - the photograph Arthur tried to hide
Nathan stopped several feet away.
“Dad?”
Franklin looked up sharply.
Arthur Mercer stood.
Victoria moved toward her father.
“Dad, what are you talking about? You know him?”
Arthur did not answer.
Nathan crouched beside Franklin instead.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
Franklin attempted to stand.
Pain shot through his wrist.
Nathan caught his arm.
“You’re not fine.”
A hotel medic hurried over.
Victoria watched all of it with growing irritation.
“This is ridiculous. He fell.”
Nathan slowly turned toward her.
“You pulled the chair.”
Victoria’s face tightened.
“He was making a scene.”
“You stepped on his hand.”
“He ignored me.”
For the first time that evening, Nathan looked at his bride as though he genuinely did not recognize her.
Franklin saw it.
He wished he hadn’t.
Arthur spoke to the hotel manager.
“Lock the ballroom security footage.”
Victoria turned sharply.
“What?”
“No files leave the building. No recordings get deleted.”
“Dad!”
Arthur looked directly at her.
“I saw what you did.”
A murmur passed through the guests.
Victoria lowered her voice.
“You’re embarrassing me.”
Arthur stared at her.
“You should be embarrassed.”
Then he looked at Franklin.
“We need to talk.”
Franklin shook his head.
“No.”
“We should have talked decades ago.”
“That time passed.”
Nathan stared between them.
“What happened decades ago?”
Neither answered.
The medic examined Franklin’s hand.
Nothing appeared broken, but swelling had already begun.
Nathan insisted on escorting him into a private hotel lounge.
Arthur followed.
Victoria tried to follow too.
Arthur stopped her at the door.
“Not you.”
Her mouth fell open.
“Dad, I am your daughter.”
“And he is the man you just assaulted.”
Nathan’s expression changed again.
Assaulted.
That word seemed to make the situation real.
Victoria looked toward Nathan.
“You’re seriously taking his side?”
Nathan did not answer.
The lounge door closed.
Inside, Arthur poured himself water but did not drink it.
Franklin sat near the window.
Nathan remained standing.
“No more secrets,” he said.
Franklin looked at his son.
“This isn’t the night.”
“My wife just attacked you, and her father thinks you died thirty-two years ago. I’m pretty sure this is the night.”
Arthur placed the glass down.
“Your father and I worked together.”
Nathan frowned.
“My father repaired refrigeration systems.”
Franklin said nothing.
Arthur looked toward him.
“That wasn’t always what he did.”
Franklin’s jaw tightened.
“Arthur.”
Nathan caught the warning.
“What did you do?”
Arthur walked toward an antique cabinet built into the wall.
“This hotel belongs to Mercer International. My family maintained a private office here long before Victoria was born.”
He opened a drawer.
Inside were several old photographs stored in archival envelopes.
Arthur selected one.
His hands trembled slightly.
He handed it to Nathan.
The photograph had faded around its edges.
Five young men stood in front of a laboratory building.
Arthur Mercer was one.
Franklin was another.
But Franklin was not wearing work clothes.
He wore a lab coat.
Beneath the picture, someone had written:
NORTHSTAR RESEARCH TEAM — 1994.
Nathan stared at his father.
“What is Northstar?”
Franklin closed his eyes.
Arthur answered.
“The reason your father disappeared.”
Nathan flipped the photograph over.
Four names had been written on the back.
Arthur Mercer.
Franklin Hale.
Dr. Samuel Keene.
Richard Vale.
Elliot Cross.
One name had been crossed out.
Franklin Hale.
Beside it, in red ink, someone had written:
DECEASED — 11/08/94.
Nathan looked up.
“You let people think you died?”
Franklin stood.
“I didn’t let them.”
Arthur looked toward him.
“No. Someone tried to make certain it was true.”
A knock sounded at the lounge door.
Arthur’s chief of security entered.
“Mr. Mercer, you asked us to preserve the ballroom footage.”
Arthur nodded.
“We did. But there’s another problem.”
“What?”
“Someone accessed the hotel archive twelve minutes ago.”
Arthur’s expression sharpened.
“Which archive?”
“The old Mercer executive records.”
Franklin went still.
The security chief continued.
“They searched one term.”
Arthur already seemed to know.
But Nathan asked.
“What term?”
The man looked at Franklin.
“Northstar.”
The silence that followed was heavier than anything that had happened in the ballroom.
Because whoever had searched that word had done so only minutes after Arthur recognized Franklin.
May you like
Meaning somebody else at the wedding knew exactly who he was.
👉 Someone inside the wedding reception had recognized Franklin’s connection to Northstar almost as quickly as Arthur did—but who had been waiting for him to reappear?
