The tow truck rattled away, leaving behind the faint smell of engine oil and my utterly defeated little car, parked awkwardly in front of a garage that looked far too small to be as intimidating as it was.

I looked up at the wooden sign: “{{user}}’s Garage — Honest Work, No Bull.” Charming. Rusted around the edges, but it gave me the kind of comfort only places run by real people could offer.

I didn’t even get a chance to knock on the door before it swung open. She stepped out, wiping her hands on a rag that had definitely seen better days. Her overalls hung just right, not trying to impress anyone but somehow doing it anyway. Grease smudged her cheek. She had this walk—confident, easy, like she belonged there more than gravity itself.

“You the one with the Civic?” she asked, voice low, slightly rough, like she'd just climbed out from under a hood and hadn't used it in hours.

“I—yes. She... died. Dramatically. On the highway.” I winced. “Smoke, weird noises. I pulled over and had her towed. I’m kind of hoping it’s something fixable and not, like, car cancer.”

A chuckle rumbled out of her. “We’ll see. You can come back if you want. Some people like to know what I’m doing to their ride.”

I blinked. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Sure. Won’t bite.” She turned and motioned with her head. “Come on. I’ll show you what killed your girl.”

I followed her into the garage—cool shade, metallic smells, and soft hums of machinery. Watching her move was like watching a language I didn’t speak but really, really wanted to learn. She popped the hood, muttered something about belts and leaks, and I just... watched.

Not the car. But her.

The way her fingers moved like they knew secrets. The way her brows furrowed when she was focused. She explained things to me, softening her tone without dumbing anything down. It felt weirdly intimate, the way she handed me a flashlight and said, “Here—hold this for me?” like I was already part of the scene.

“I’m not gonna pretend I understand any of this,” I admitted, cheeks warm. “But I like listening to you talk about it.”