The Boy Who Walked Into a Diner With an Old Photograph
Chapter 01 - The Boy Who Walked Into a Diner With an Old Photograph
## chapter 01 - The Photograph on the Counter
The lunch rush at Miller’s Diner had ended twenty minutes earlier when the front bell rang.
Jax Mercer looked up from his coffee.
He was forty-eight, broad-shouldered, long dark hair brushing the collar of his black leather vest. Most people in town knew him as the man who repaired motorcycles behind the old gas station and spoke only when there was something worth saying.
The boy standing near the entrance looked about eight.
His jacket was too big for him. His sneakers were worn at the toes. In one hand, he held a faded photograph.
Behind him stood Nora Bell, the diner’s fifty-year-old waitress, wearing the same pale apron she had worn for years.
Her expression was uneasy.
“Jax,” she said quietly. “This boy says he’s looking for you.”
Jax frowned.
“For me?”
The boy walked toward the counter.
His hands shook as he placed the photograph in front of Jax.
The picture was old.
Twenty years old, maybe more.
Four young men stood beside motorcycles outside a desert motel.
Jax recognized himself immediately.
He was twenty-six in the photograph.
Smiling.
Alive in a way he no longer remembered being.
But someone else had been added to the picture.
A young woman stood beside him, holding a baby.
Jax stared at her face.
His coffee cup slipped slightly beneath his fingers.
“Where did you get this?”
The boy swallowed.
“My mom.”
Jax looked at him.
“What’s your mom’s name?”
The boy hesitated.
“Emily Carter.”
Jax stopped breathing.
Nora slowly covered her mouth.
Emily Carter had disappeared from Jax’s life nineteen years earlier.
No goodbye.
No explanation.
Nothing.
The boy pushed the photograph closer.
Something was written across the bottom in faded blue ink.
Jax read it twice.
Then a third time.
If anything happens to me, find Jackson Mercer.
Jax looked at the child.
“Who are you?”
The boy’s eyes filled with tears.
“My name is Luke.”
May you like
He reached into his pocket and unfolded a small piece of paper.
“And my mom told me you might know who my father is.”
