“You can have the car back,” I said calmly, handing her a neatly stapled packet. “Just sign here acknowledging that you’re reimbursing me for all the restoration work.”
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “What?
I’m not paying you!”
I shrugged. “Then you’re not getting the car. Simple.”
Her husband ended up fixing his own car.
And mine? It still carries me to university every morning—quiet, reliable, and entirely mine. Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events.
Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance.
All images are for illustration purposes only.
