By spring, Cole’s Repair had six employees.
The leaking roof was fixed.
The sign outside was replaced.
I could have removed the nickname entirely.
Instead, Noah convinced me to keep it.
The new sign read:
COLE’S REPAIR
HONEST WORK. FAIR PRICES.
And underneath, in smaller letters:
PROUD HOME OF “SCRAP ETHAN.”
“You’re insane,” I told him.
“It’s branding.”
“You’re thirteen.”
“I understand marketing.”
Apparently, he did.
People took pictures beside the sign.
Customers posted them online.
The insult became a joke I owned instead of one that owned me.
Then Richard Hale returned.
He looked different.
Tired.
His business partner was under investigation for tampering with the Bennett vehicle, and Richard’s company had lost several contracts.
He stood in my office.
“I need work done on three trucks.”
I stared at him.
“You came here?”
“You’re the best option.”
“That must hurt.”
He almost smiled.
“I probably deserve that.”
I could have turned him away.
Part of me wanted to.
Then I remembered the gas station.
The rain.
Three men walking past a frightened girl because helping her offered them nothing.
I didn’t want to become a different version of the same person.
“Marcus will write you an estimate.”
Richard looked surprised.
“That’s it?”
“What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know.”
“Revenge?”
He didn’t answer.
I leaned back.
“Richard, I repair cars. I’m not interested in repairing your conscience.”
He looked down.
“I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did.”
“No.”
“I shouldn’t have laughed that night.”
“No.”
“I should’ve helped her.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
Then he walked out.
It wasn’t forgiveness.
Not yet.
But it was something better than revenge.
It was closure.
A month later, Victoria invited Noah and me to dinner.
Not at some mansion.
At a small restaurant downtown.
Sophie was there.
She hugged Noah before sitting down.
The two had become friends, mostly because Sophie treated him like a younger brother and Noah treated her like someone desperately in need of sarcasm.
During dessert, Victoria handed me a folder.
I groaned.
“Every time you give me paperwork, my life gets complicated.”
“This might be worse.”
Inside were plans for a new automotive training center.
“What is this?”
“Bennett Foundation wants to fund vocational programs for teenagers.”
I kept reading.
“You want my shop involved?”
“I want you to design the mechanical training program.”
I looked up.
“Why me?”
Sophie answered.
“Because you don’t treat people like they’re disposable.”
Victoria nodded.
“We have plenty of people who know how to build institutions. We need somebody who understands what it means to be overlooked.”
I closed the folder.
For a moment, I saw Lily.
Barefoot.
Laughing.
Telling me broken things could be repaired.
“I’ll think about it.”
Victoria smiled.
“You’re going to say yes.”
“Probably.”
Noah leaned toward Sophie.
“He always does this.”
“Does what?”
“Pretends he needs time when he already decided.”
“I can hear you.”
“That’s okay.”
Everyone laughed.
And for the first time since Lily died, I sat at a table full of people and didn’t feel like something was missing.
I still missed her.
I always would.
But grief had changed.
It no longer felt like an empty chair.
It felt like someone had left the light on for me.
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