The garage door slammed shut with a metallic crash that echoed through the empty building.
Daniel Carter froze beside the workbench, a wrench still in his right hand.
For a second, he thought one of the old ceiling tracks had finally broken loose. Carter Auto had been standing on the corner of Madison and Eighth for almost thirty years, and half the building seemed to communicate through rattles, groans, and noises Daniel had learned to identify without looking.
Then he heard it again.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Someone was pounding on the front glass.
Daniel glanced at the clock above the office door.
8:53 p.m.
He had officially closed nearly three hours ago.
The street outside was mostly empty. Madison Avenue was busy during the day, but after the hardware store closed at eight and the diner shut down its kitchen at eight-thirty, the entire block became strangely quiet.
One broken streetlight flickered across from the garage.
A single silver sedan sat parked crookedly near the curb.
Its hood was raised.
Thin white steam drifted into the cold night air.
Daniel placed the wrench on the workbench.
He wiped his hands on a stained shop rag and walked toward the front door.
Through the glass, he saw a teenage girl.
She could not have been much older than sixteen.
Maybe seventeen.
She wore jeans, white sneakers, and a puffy green jacket that looked too thin for the temperature.
Her dark hair was pulled into a loose ponytail.
She was crying so hard that her shoulders shook.
When she saw Daniel approaching, she hit the glass again.
"Please."
Daniel unlocked the door immediately.
"Hey. Slow down."
The girl stumbled backward as he opened it.
"What happened?"
"My car."
Her voice broke.
"It just stopped."
Daniel looked past her.
"The silver one?"
She nodded rapidly.
"It started making this horrible noise, and then there was smoke, and I didn't know what to do. I pulled over because I thought it might catch fire."
"You did the right thing."
She wiped at her face with her sleeve.
"I don't have money."
Daniel looked back at her.
"I didn't ask about money."
"I know, but I don't want you to think I'm trying to get something for free."
"What's your name?"
"Grace."
"Last name?"
"Hanson."
"Okay, Grace Hanson."
He pulled his coat from a hook near the door.
"Let's look at the car before we decide whether the engine has exploded."
Grace stared at him.
"Can engines actually explode?"
Daniel paused.
"Bad choice of words."
Her frightened expression almost made him smile.
"Come on."
He stepped outside.
The cold immediately found the gap between his shirt collar and neck.
Grace hurried after him.
"My mom isn't answering."
"Where is she?"
"At work."
"Where?"
"St. Joseph's Hospital. Emergency room."
Daniel nodded.
"What about your dad?"
Grace's face changed.
It was small.
Almost invisible.
But Daniel saw it.
"Not around."
He didn't ask again.
The silver sedan was an older Toyota Corolla, probably fifteen years old.
The paint was faded on the roof.
One rear bumper corner was held together with a black plastic fastener.
The front passenger tire looked newer than the others.
Daniel reached the car and immediately smelled hot coolant.
Not good.
But not necessarily catastrophic.
"Turn it off?"
Grace nodded.
"As soon as the warning light came on."
"Temperature warning?"
"The little red thermometer thing."
"Good."
He leaned under the open hood with a flashlight.
Steam curled from the front passenger side of the engine compartment.
Coolant had sprayed across part of the engine bay.
Daniel followed the wet trail.
There.
Upper radiator hose.
Partially slipped from the housing.
The clamp had loosened.
He reached carefully toward it, then stopped.
Still too hot.
Grace hovered near him.
"Is it bad?"
"Could've been."
She swallowed.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're lucky you stopped."
He pointed.
"That hose came loose. Your coolant started leaking onto the hot engine."
"Oh."
"If you'd kept driving, the engine could have overheated badly enough to warp the cylinder head or damage the gasket."
Grace stared at him.
"I don't know what any of that means."
Daniel smiled slightly.
"It means expensive."
Her face crumpled again.
"No, no. Don't start crying yet."
"I can't afford expensive."
"I said it could have been expensive."
He pointed toward the hose.
"This probably isn't."
"Probably?"
"I'm a mechanic. I'm legally required to scare customers before giving them good news."
Grace let out a tiny laugh.
It was the first sound she had made that wasn't panicked.
Daniel straightened.