“She’ll run,” Jake said. “She just needs to remember how.”
Jake lit a cigarette, the orange flare catching the grease on his knuckles. Smoke curled up through the beam of his drop light, twisting slow as ghosts. midnight auto parts smoking
Another drag. The smoke hung in the cold November air, mixing with the smell of burned oil, old gas, and rust. Outside, the highway hummed. Inside, nothing moved except the haze. “She’ll run,” Jake said