Chapter 8 - THE DEAD MAN ON QUEENS BOULEVARD
The victim's name was Daniel Mercer.
Forty-six.
Father of two.
Night-shift maintenance supervisor.
He had been crossing Queens Boulevard after finishing work.
Saraphina's car struck him shortly after midnight.
He died before paramedics arrived.
For days, the news described him as an anonymous pedestrian.
A statistic.
A tragedy.
But Daniel had a family.
A wife.
Two children.
A mother who called him every Sunday.
When I learned his name, I cried.
Not because I was accused.
Because a man had died.
And the people responsible had treated his death like a public-relations problem.
I asked Gabriel to arrange a meeting with Daniel's widow.
He hesitated.
“Ellie.”
“I need to tell her.”
He looked at me.
“Tell her what?”
“That I wasn't driving.”
He nodded.
“And that I'm going to help make sure the truth comes out.”
Gabriel studied me.
Then smiled sadly.
“You're stronger than you think.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
May you like
A pause.
“I'm just tired of people pretending that money makes someone else's life less important.”
