"That wasn't just a car," Marcus said in a low, trembling baritone.
Chapter III: The Fallen Brother's Legacy
Evelyn scoffed, rolling her eyes and tapping her leather binder. "I don't care about your sentimental sob stories, Marcus. A rule is a rule. You'll be billed for the private towing and scrap disposal fee on your next monthly dues statement."
Marcus slowly rose to his full height, towering over the woman in pink.
"That 1969 Mach 1 belonged to my younger brother, Lieutenant David Vance," Marcus spoke, his voice carrying clearly across the street where a dozen neighbors stood watching in stunned silence. "He spent four years restoring it before he deployed to Kandahar. When he didn't make it home, that car was the only piece of him our family had left."
The whisper among the watching neighbors turned into collective gasps of horror.
"Evelyn, you didn't..." one of the board members on the sidewalk gasped, backing away from her.
"How was I supposed to know?!" Evelyn snapped defensively, her voice pitching higher. "It had no municipal tags! It was scrap metal under our bylaws!"