Chapter 12
The walk took nearly two hours. By the time Leo and Toby finally reached the corner of Fourth and Elm, the fog had burned off, replaced by a harsh, glaring midday sun that offered no warmth. Miller’s Auto Repair was a sprawling, chaotic lot surrounded by a rusted chain-link fence, choked with stacked tires, dismantled engine blocks, and the acrid smell of burnt motor oil and exhaust.
Leo pushed open the creaking chain-link gate, pulling Toby behind her. They navigated a maze of wrecked sedans and delivery vans until they spotted it parked near the back fence: the green and purple food truck, its hood propped wide open, exposing a complex tangle of hoses and black metal machinery.
Standing beneath the raised hood, wrench in hand and a smudge of grease smeared across his forehead, was Arthur. He was wrestling with a stubborn radiator clamp, muttering under his breath, when a soft scrape of shoes on gravel made him look up.
Arthur froze, the wrench still gripped in his hand. He stared in disbelief as Leo and Toby stepped around the front bumper of a rusted sedan, their faces streaked with fresh dirt and sweat, standing right there in the middle of a greasy auto repair lot two miles away from their usual beat.
"What in the world...?" Arthur breathed, dropping his hand to his side. He quickly wiped his greasy palm down his tan apron, walking over to them with wide, concerned eyes. "Kids, how did you even find this place? It’s miles from your route."
Leo stopped a few feet away, chest heaving slightly from the long walk, but her gaze was fierce and steady. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the red leather wallet, and flipped it open with practiced precision, holding it out toward him like an offering.
May you like
"You missed Tuesday," Leo said, her voice dropping the accusatory edge, leaving only a quiet, resolute determination. "We brought the payment anyway."
Arthur stared down at the open wallet. Inside, nestled against the worn fabric, the coins gleamed in the harsh sunlight—the nickels, the single dollar, the two pennies, and now, a crumpled nickel she must have scavenged along Fourth Street. A thick lump formed in his throat, and for a second, the big, bearded man looked entirely lost for words.
