“Sir… my father had a watch just like yours.”
The words left the boy’s mouth as if they were nothing special.
But to Robert Mitchell, those seven words landed like a punch to the chest, knocking the air from his lungs.
The fork slipped from his fingers and clattered against a pristine white porcelain plate, the sound echoing through The Grand Oak, one of the most exclusive restaurants in Manhattan—a place where a single meal cost more than many American families earned in a month.