“That doesn’t excuse it.”
“No.”
Evan watched his mother carefully.
Victoria seemed almost to flinch at Daniel’s answer.
She had probably expected him to make absolution easy.
To say it was fine.
To tell her not to worry about it.
He didn’t.
Instead Daniel picked up the invoice and turned it toward her.
“The brake repair is here.
Parts and labor.”
Victoria stared at the amount again.
The same price she had questioned because it seemed too low.
“You saved my son’s life,” she said.
Daniel shook his head once.
“Today I fixed your brakes.”
“You saved his life.”
“Years ago, I saw somebody who needed help.”
“You could have been killed.”
Daniel looked toward Evan.
“So could he.”
Victoria had no answer to that.
A side door opened near the office.
Clara Reeves stepped inside carrying her school bag, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail.
At thirteen, she had inherited Amy’s eyes and Daniel’s habit of stopping when she sensed a room had changed.
“Dad?”
Daniel turned immediately.
“Hey, kiddo.”
Clara looked from Victoria’s tearful face to Evan’s stunned expression.
“Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.”
Clara did not appear convinced, but she walked behind the counter and dropped her bag onto the chair.
Victoria stared at her.
“Your daughter?”
Daniel nodded.
“Clara.”
Clara gave Victoria a cautious hello.
Evan looked at the faded Reeves & Son sign visible through the open bay.
Then he looked at Clara and smiled faintly.
“The sign’s wrong.”
Daniel followed his gaze.
“Been wrong a long time.”
“Why keep it?”
Daniel leaned against the counter.
“My dad named the shop.
After he died, I planned to repaint it.
Then Clara’s mom got sick.”
Clara went quiet.
Daniel continued without dramatizing it.
“After Amy died, other things seemed more important.”
Victoria looked around the garage again.
This time she saw the shelves arranged precisely.
The invoices stacked neatly.
The photograph of Amy and Clara half-hidden beside the register.
A lunch bag on a hook.
A row of carefully labeled tools.
