Chapter Five: The First Visit to North Pier

Monday was four days away. Daniel went to North Pier that afternoon without telling Vale. The waterfront had changed since his childhood: old loading bays replaced by cafés, a skate park, and a glass-fronted market hall. Behind the polished signs, however, temporary workers still lined up outside a fenced office waiting for assignments.

He approached a woman wearing a yellow safety vest. Her badge said IMANI ROSS.

“I’m trying to learn about the food-service concession,” he said.

“Then you want the office.”

“I want to know how the shifts work.”

Imani examined him. “You applying?”

“Maybe.”

“Then bring your own shoes, your own knife roll, and enough money to survive two weeks without pay. They call it a training period.”

“Is that legal?”

“Depends who you ask.”

She walked away before he could answer. Daniel followed at a distance, watching a supervisor collect workers’ phones before they entered the kitchen area. The supervisor wore a bright red lanyard and smiled constantly. Daniel disliked him immediately.

Inside the market hall, an enormous sign announced HARBOR NIGHT SHIFT RETURNS: A NEW ERA OF COMMUNITY DINING. Beneath it stood a model kitchen with shining steel counters and a mural of smiling workers. Daniel recognized the arrangement from his father’s photograph. Someone had copied the long communal table but removed the workers’ names painted along its edge.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice said.

A woman in a tailored blue coat stood beside him. “I’m Celia Brandt, project director.”

Daniel introduced himself. Her smile faltered at his surname, then returned with practiced speed.

“Brooks. Any relation to Nathan?”

“His son.”

“Your father was an important part of our history. We’d love to honor him at the opening.”

“How many workers are paid during training?”

Celia’s smile disappeared. “That’s a complicated question.”

“It seems like a yes-or-no question.”

“We have compliance staff for those matters.”

“And the phones?”

“Security protocol. We serve high-profile guests.”

Daniel glanced at the model kitchen. “My father built a place where workers could speak freely. You’re building one where they can’t keep their phones.”

Celia leaned closer. “Be careful whose version of history you trust, Mr. Brooks. Some of the people trying to interfere with this project have blood on their hands.”

“I know,” Daniel said. “One of them told me himself.”

Chapter Six: The Cost of a Name

By evening, Daniel had lost his job. Kent said the diner couldn’t afford the publicity of being associated with organized crime. Daniel suspected the dismissal had more to do with his refusal to apologize for helping Marcel.

June found him sitting on their father’s garage steps with his apron folded beside him.

“Kent fired you?”