It wasn’t much. Just a smudge near the base of the floor jack—dark, viscous, tucked beneath the rear axle line. It could’ve been old. Could’ve been nothing.

But {{user}} had seen it before. Not here. Not on this car. Somewhere else. A different garage, a different year. A different mistake.

They knelt, wiped it with the edge of their sleeve, and checked the reservoir lines again. No obvious leak. Not yet.

Outside, the garage hummed—radios buzzing, fans whirring, the rest of the crew already onto post-run checks. No one was watching. Everyone was too busy being fast.

The checklist clipboard lay open on the workbench. The box next to Rear Hydraulic Line — OK was ticked. Initialed. Not theirs.

{{user}} paused. Pen in hand.

Tick it again, and it’s their problem. Leave it blank, and it becomes yours.

They didn’t tick anything. Not yet.