The old man shook his head slowly.
âNo,â he whispered. âI was sent away.â
Daniel stepped back, gripping the watch like it might disappear.
âMy mother said my father abandoned us.â
The old manâs face collapsed.
âYour mother died looking for me.â
The store went silent.
Even the salesman stopped breathing.
The old man reached into his coat and pulled out a soaked envelope, the edges nearly falling apart.
Inside was an old photograph of a young woman holding a baby wrapped in blue.
On the back, in faded ink, were the words:
Daniel, if you ever find this, your father loved you before he ever held you.
Danielâs eyes filled.
âThatâs my mother.â
The old man nodded, tears running into his beard.
âYour grandfather told me you both died. He said if I came near the family, heâd have me arrested. I spent thirty years thinking I had buried my whole world.â
Daniel looked at the watch again.
His hands were shaking so badly the metal clicked against the glass counter.
The salesman whispered, âSir, I didnât know.â
Daniel turned to him, eyes wet and furious.
âThat was the problem.â
Then he looked back at the man in the wet coat.
âWhatâs your name?â
âThomas.â
Danielâs face broke.
âMy middle name is Thomas.â
The old man covered his mouth.
For one long second, neither of them moved.
Then Daniel walked around the counter and stood in front of him.
The old man tried to straighten, tried to look worthy, but his shoulders shook too hard.
âI have nothing,â Thomas whispered. âI only came to sell it because I needed food.â
Daniel pulled him into his arms.
The watch slipped between them, cold and heavy, but neither let go.
âI wore a dead manâs name my whole life,â Daniel cried. âAnd you were alive.â
Thomas sobbed against his sonâs shoulder.
Outside, rain beat against the glass.
Inside, beneath the golden lights and rows of watches, time finally gave them back what lies had stolen.
