“No.”
Jack stepped closer.
“You're worried about what's in this building.”
Gordon laughed.
“Conspiracy now?”
Jack shook his head.
“No.”
“Observation.”
Gordon pointed at Sophie.
“Her mother needs to be here.”
“Call her.”
Sophie looked suddenly guilty.
Jack noticed.
“You didn't tell her?”
Sophie stared at the floor.
“She would've said no.”
“Probably because walking a condemned property alone is a terrible idea.”
Sophie looked offended.
“You came.”
“Yes.”
“And it remains a terrible idea.”
She almost smiled.
Gordon pulled out his phone.
“I’m calling the sheriff.”
Jack nodded.
“Do it.”
That answer irritated him.
He went outside.
Sophie whispered:
“You're really moving it?”
Jack studied the motorcycle.
“How much can safely separate?”
“Dad wrote inventory.”
“Where?”
She opened binder pages.
Every assembly documented.
Engine components tagged.
Fasteners bagged.
Torque notes.
Wiring diagram.
Jack smiled.
“We can move this.”
“How?”
Jack pulled out his phone.
“Friends.”
“You have that many?”
“Depends what they owe me.”
The first truck arrived forty minutes later.
Then another.
Then a flatbed utility trailer.
Then a pickup carrying portable lights.
No army.
No gang.
Just working people.
Ray Donnelly, a welder from Copper Ridge.
Maria Chen, who ran a towing company with her brother.
Tom Alvarez, electrician.
Two riders Jack knew from fabrication jobs.
All adults.
All confused until Jack pointed at Sophie.
“This is her father's shop.”
“Comes down at seven.”
“We're removing her bike and personal records.”
Maria looked at Sophie.
“You running the inventory?”
Sophie blinked.
Jack answered:
“Yes.”
Sophie looked at him.
“I am?”
“You know it better than us.”
Her posture changed.
Responsibility.
Not burden.
Useful.
They worked carefully.
Sophie sat at the main bench with David’s binder.
She called numbers.
“Box C-four.”
“Cylinder heads wrapped in brown oilcloth.”
“Those go with engine.”
“Rear brake assembly is supposed to be in drawer nineteen.”
Adults listened.
Nobody patted her head.
Nobody called her brave every thirty seconds.
Nobody tried to take over simply because she was young.
Jack made sure of that.
At 9:12 p.m., Sophie’s mother arrived.
Her name was Rachel Carter.
She got out of an old Honda with the expression of a woman deciding which person to kill first.
“Sophie!”
Every adult froze.
Sophie closed her eyes.
“Oh.”
Rachel crossed the shop.
“Sophie Carter.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Do not ‘hi Mom’ me.”
Jack stepped forward.
Rachel looked at him.
Then his size.
Then his vest.
Then the dozen strangers.
“This better be incredible.”
Jack nodded.
“Fair.”
Sophie held up David’s binder.
Rachel stopped.
Everything changed.