Eli did the math.
Before he was born.
“Thomas died several months later. Complications from injuries. Lena disappeared before the funeral.”
“We never knew.”
“That’s a lie.”
Jonah winced.
“We had theories.”
“Which were?”
“That she blamed herself.”
“For the fire?”
“Did she start it?”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was there.”
Eli waited.
Jonah’s hands tightened.
“We were rebuilding a bike late. There was an electrical fault. Fuel caught. Everything happened fast.”
“Mom was there?”
“She got out?”
“But someone else didn’t.”
Eli looked at Grant.
Grant’s face had gone gray.
“I’m done with this.”
He walked outside.
Eli looked at Jonah.
Jonah answered quietly.
“Grant’s son.”
The coldness finally made sense.
Not completely.
Enough.
“His son died?”
“Seventeen years old.”
“Because of my mom?”
“Grant thinks so.”
“He used to.”
“Does he now?”
“Ask him.”
Jonah caught his wrist lightly.
“One more thing.”
Eli looked down.
Jonah nodded toward the brass wrench in Eli’s pocket.
“Your grandfather made that.”
Eli slowly pulled it out.
The little bird caught the light.
“Why the bird?”
Jonah smiled sadly.
“Lena’s nickname.”
“Wren.”
Eli looked at the bird.
His mother.
A woman he had known as Mara Mercer.
Had once been Wren Vale.
Daughter of the founder.
Mechanic.
Runaway.
And somehow, every road he had taken after losing her had led him into the garage she had abandoned.
Grant stood behind the building smoking a cigarette he had not lit.
Eli approached carefully.
“You’re holding that backward.”
Grant looked down.
The cigarette filter pointed away from his mouth.
He threw it into a trash can.
“I quit twelve years ago.”
“Seems like it worked.”
Grant almost smiled.
Eli stood beside him.
“Jonah told me.”
“I figured.”
“About your son.”
Grant looked across the alley.
“He had a name.”
“What was it?”
“Daniel.”
“I’m sorry.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“You didn’t do anything.”
“My mom—”
“Your mother didn’t k.i.l.l my son.”
The words came hard.
Grant shoved his hands into his pockets.
“For years I wanted somebody to blame. Your mother was easy. She was working on the electrical system. She left before the funeral. So I decided guilt made sense.”
“But?”
“But Daniel caused the short.”
Eli looked at him.
Grant swallowed.
“We learned that later. He bypassed a fuse because we didn’t have the right one. He knew better. He was seventeen and thought knowing better made him invincible.”
Eli stared at the pavement.
“Did Mom know?”
“Not when she left.”
“Then why did she leave?”
“You hated her.”
“I hated everybody.”
Grant’s voice broke slightly.
“Then I spent ten years hating myself for needing somebody to hate.”
Eli did not know what to say.
“You have her eyes.”
People had said that before.
Usually relatives who barely knew him.
This felt different.
“She came here once after the fire,” Grant said.
Eli snapped toward him.
“About six months later.”
“Jonah said she disappeared.”
“She did. Then she came back for maybe ten minutes. Middle of the night.”
“Did you see her?”
“What happened?”
Grant closed his eyes.
“I told her she wasn’t welcome.”
Eli felt anger ignite.
Grant nodded.
“You should be mad.”
“What did she say?”
“She handed me that brass wrench.”
Eli looked down at it.
“She said if she ever had a child, the wrench belonged to them.”
Eli’s skin prickled.
“But Mom had it.”
“I gave it back.”
Grant looked toward the garage.
“Because she said something I didn’t understand.”
Grant’s eyes settled on Mercy.
“She said, ‘One day, the bike will bring the truth home.’”
Twenty-four hours remained.
Eli no longer cared about the bargain.
Not entirely.
Fixing Mercy had become something else.
A message.
Maybe from his mother.
Maybe from his grandfather.
Maybe from a past that had been waiting inside steel and wire longer than Eli had been alive.
The mysterious extra wire led beneath the fuel tank.
Removing the tank revealed a custom metal housing welded into the frame.
Jonah swore.
Grant stared.
“You knew about this?” Eli asked.
Both men shook their heads.
The housing was no larger than a deck of cards.
A wire entered one side.
Another exited toward the ignition.
Eli traced the circuit.
“It interrupts power.”
“So it is a kill switch.”
“How do we bypass it?”
Eli examined the small housing.
“No screws.”
Grant said, “Cut the wire.”