Page 8 of Proposition 2

My breath sawed in and out of my chest as I opened the door and popped the hood. I couldn’t hear anything over my heart thundering in my ears as I looked into the engine compartment.

It looked new.

No dirt or grease buildup. No sign of oil from when the head gasket leaked last year, and I taught myself how to change it. No wear or cracks in any of the rubber pieces.

I knew it wasn’t likely that the engine itself was new, but it was so clean it could have been, and I knew the belt and hoses had to be to look like that. I was completely certain that wasn’t my battery, because the label on the one that had been in it the day before was red, but suddenly it was blue.

Leo.

It was the only explanation.

I ran inside, brushing past my brother standing in the doorway to grab my keys and head back to the car. When I turned the ignition, the car cranked with a smooth purr and no hint of the clank and grinding of the previous day. It hadn’t sounded that good the entire time I owned it.

My vision went red.

Slamming the hood, I tossed my keys back on the table by the door before stomping into the yard again. Michael watched me, calling my name when I passed the car.

I waved a hand over my shoulder at him but didn’t stop, walking all the way down to the street as I dug my phone from my pocket. Turning to head down the road so I was sure my family wouldn’t hear me, I stabbed my finger at Leo’s name, wishing it was the man himself I was bruising my fingertip against.

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