Chapter 4

Jax never spoke of his sister again, and no one at the garage dared to ask.

But from that day on, my status here changed.

From a nuisance, I became a tacitly accepted presence.

My bed was set up in the storage room, a simple cot made of wooden planks.

Though crude, at least I had my own space.

Pops came every day to change my dressing, grumbling, but his movements were gentle.

"Girls shouldn't have nasty scars. Jax said to use the best medicine on you."

He complained while applying a dark, gooey ointment.

"This is my top-shelf secret formula, kid. Don't tell anyone."

Mitch, the blonde kid, the one who tried to touch my face, would secretly slip me snacks, usually a lollipop or a bag of nearly expired chips.

"Here, candy. Candy makes the pain go away."

He grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth, a surprisingly innocent contrast to his intimidating tattoos.

Tank was in charge of my meals, three times a day, like clockwork.

Though the food was simple, there was always a bowl of hot soup.

Every one of them had a record, and every one carried a past they couldn't bear to look back on.

They were rough and volatile, but they all looked out for me.

A month later, my leg gradually deflated, and the pain subsided.

Jax tossed me a book thick as a brick: Automotive Construction and Repair.

"You're just sitting around anyway, read a book."

I held the greasy book, turning the pages one by one.

Every part diagram, every mechanical principle, was like Greek to me.

"Can't understand it?" Jax had appeared behind me without a sound.

I nodded.

He pulled up a stool and sat down, picking up a wrench and pointing at a diagram in the book: "This is the engine, the car's heart."

"Pistons, connecting rods, crankshaft… they're like the bones and joints of a body, working together to create power."

His explanations weren't like a textbook lecture; they were vivid analogies.

"See this clutch? Total jerk. Grabs on tight when it needs you, then kicks you to the curb the second it doesn't."

"And the brake system? That's your lifeline."

"If these brakes go soft on you when it matters most, you're not calling a mechanic; you're calling a coroner."

I listened, captivated.

These cold machines, in his mouth, seemed to acquire life and personality.

Days passed in this strange calm.

By day, I read, and I listened to Jax talk about cars.

By night, I fell asleep to the sounds of card games, curses, and occasional arguments from outside.

I rarely spoke, spending most of my time in silence.

Until that day, Mitch excitedly ran in with a new phone.

"Look! I just scored this sweet used smartphone, cheap!"

"I'll teach you how to use it, then you can go online!"

He helped me set up a social media account. The first thing it recommended following was the local university newsfeed.

The screen lit up, and a bold headline jumped out at me: 【Freshman Spotlight: Welcome A-State Valedictorian Kyle, Beginning a New Chapter!】

The accompanying photo showed Kyle in a brand-new uniform, standing at the entrance of A-State, grinning confidently.

Beside him, David's face crinkled with pride, and Brenda, beaming with satisfaction, clung to his arm.

The three of them looked like a picture-perfect happy family.

In the background of the photo was the tree-lined avenue I had dreamed of countless times.

My blood ran cold.