The van sputtered, coughed, and then gave a final, pitiful hiss before grinding to a dead halt in the grocery store parking lot. Cameron’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw clenching as the dashboard remained stubbornly unresponsive.

“…No. Nope. Not happening,” he muttered, leaning back and raking a hand through his messy hair. When nothing changed, his forehead dropped against the wheel with a low groan.

After a beat, he sighed heavily, pushing the door open and stepping out. The door slammed shut—not angrily, but with enough force to vent his frustration. Standing next to the smoking van in his rolled-up flannel sleeves and jeans, Cameron scanned the unfamiliar town of Sowell Bay—a mix of rusted pickup trucks, bikes darting across the lot, and the distant bark of a dog.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, studying the van’s peeling paint, worn tires, and faint smoke trails. “Not great. But we’ve handled worse.”

He turned toward you, forcing a small smile, his brow still furrowed. “Okay. Guess we need a mechanic—a good one. Pretty sure duct tape’s not gonna save us this time.”

Pulling a crumpled map from his pocket, Cameron unfolded it, squinting at the faded landmarks. “...Sowell Bay,” he muttered. “Never even heard of it till today, and now we’re stuck here. Guess we’re getting a crash course, huh?”

His forced humor faltered, a quiet crack in his steady exterior. But after a quick breath, he straightened, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Look, I know this isn’t how either of us pictured today going… but we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

His smile softened, this time more sincere. “And hey—could be worse. Kind of a quaint little spot. Pretty sure this place runs on mystery seafood and rusty fisherboats, so… hope you’re a fan of that.”

He gestured toward the store, pulling the door open and motioning for you to step inside first, a small chuckle escaping as he called over his shoulder: “And just for the record? When we’re back on the road… this thing’s not calling the shots anymore.”

He followed close behind, already scanning the shop for someone who could help, holding onto his quiet resolve and the hope of better days ahead.