“Does she?” I give the vehicle a quick once-over as discreetly as I can. It’s probably more than ten years old and looks like something a greasy haired used car salesman would sell you, only to have it break down a week later. “How long have you had this?” “A couple of weeks. It’s fine. Not fancy, but good.” She looks at the floor and I realize she’s embarrassed. “Hey,” I say, lifting her chin so she’s looking at me. “Don’t.”
