Rafael's serious brown eyes.
She still carried a backpack, though it was black now instead of pink.
She walked beside Marcus across the lot one Saturday morning.
He was fifty-three.
More gray in his beard.
A little slower standing up after long rides.
Sophie reminded him constantly.
"You're old."
"I'm experienced."
"You're ancient."
"I can still leave you here."
"You won't."
She was right.
They entered Rosy's.
The same waitress who had worked the morning everything began recognized them.
"Sophie!"
"Hi, Rosy."
Rosy hugged her.
Then looked at Marcus.
"You paying?"
"Apparently."
"Good."
Sophie ordered chocolate-chip pancakes.
Marcus stared at her.
"What?"
"You still eat those?"
"You still drink coffee that tastes like burned tires."
"Fair."
They took the same booth.
On the wall near the register hung a framed newspaper clipping.
A photograph showed Sophie at seven holding her mother's hand outside Harmon headquarters.
Marcus hated that too.
He had secretly bought Rosy a better frame.
Sophie noticed.
"You did that."
"Did what?"
"The frame."
"No."
"It used to be wood."
"Coincidence."
"You're a terrible liar."
Marcus drank coffee.
After breakfast, they went to the clubhouse.
Sophie visited several times a week.
Not because Elena needed childcare anymore.
Because it had become family.
Diesel taught her mechanics.
Snake pretended to help with homework even after Sophie became better at math than he was.
Flash taught her computer programming, under strict instructions from Marcus that none of it involve breaking into anything.
Sophie still drew motorcycles.
Her first purple-crayon picture remained framed behind the bar.
Stick figures.
Oversized bikes.
A tiny girl in the center.
MY HEROES.
Marcus had once tried moving it to a less visible wall.
Sophie caught him.
It never moved again.
That afternoon, Diesel was showing Sophie how to inspect brake pads.
"Don't just look at thickness," he said.
"What else?"
"Uneven wear."
"Because?"
"Caliper issue."
"Or alignment."
Diesel stared.
"When did you learn that?"
"Last week."
"From who?"
"You."
"I don't remember teaching it."
"You're old too."
Diesel pointed a wrench at her.
"Marcus!"
"Not my problem," Marcus called.
Elena arrived an hour later carrying groceries.
She had learned long ago that feeding the Desert Kings was easier than arguing with them about eating properly.
"You have vegetables?" Snake asked suspiciously.
"Yes."
"I'm leaving."
"You said that last week."
"One day I'll mean it."
Marcus helped unload the car.
Elena looked toward Sophie.
"She finish homework?"
Marcus glanced through the open garage door.
Sophie was leaning over an engine beside Diesel.
"Define finish."
"Marcus."
"I didn't assign it."
Elena shook her head.
"You are a terrible influence."
"You keep coming back."
"Unfortunately."
Their friendship had become one of the constants in both their lives.
People occasionally assumed it was romantic.
It was not.
Elena had dated.
Marcus had too, badly.
What existed between them was different.
Trust forged through crisis and proven afterward in ordinary life.
Marcus attended Sophie's school plays.
Elena brought food when club members were sick.