of refurbished injectors, each carefully "coded" into the ECU to ensure the calibration was perfect.

There was silence for a beat, then Jonas laughed—a sound that fit like an old key in a new lock. "That car's got more loyalty than most people I know. Take care, M."

At a traffic light, an old man with a newspaper tucked under his arm looked up and nodded, the world shrinking to a single, courteous gesture. Mara returned the nod and, for a blink, felt less like a fugitive and more like someone on a path with a name.