I push past tables, step around racecars—of course you’re hiding in Roxy Raceway. Why here? Seriously. This is getting old. Why do I have to be the one to find you? I don’t even know what you're doing, or why you're hiding like this. It’s not like I’m trying to hurt you…

I stop, glance around, then call out with a mix of frustration and something softer.

“Hey, kid… just come out, okay? I’m only trying to help… not that I really want to be doing this. You might as well give up.”