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or the miraculous daughter.
    This my one moment to just be Lena.
    Even if it’s just to go to an auto parts store. Not quite the breaking free dream I’d kept locked away in my mind, but it works.
    “I’m such a prick. I should have given that to you back at the house,” he says. “Don’t worry though, the place isn’t much further.”
    All of my feelings should be frozen along with the rest of me, but disappointment still surfaces. We just got here and he’s already talking about turning back home.
    “No rush,” I say.
    Gabe turns to me and gives me a quick, appreciate smile and a nod. That smile could easily have raised my core body temperature at least a few degrees.
    “So this car part, why so urgent?” I ask.
    His posture stiffens a little.
    “The car in the garage. It was my grandfather’s. I’m just trying to get it fixed up while I’m staying with my grandma.”
    “You’re just visiting though, right? How long are you going to be around?”
    Gabe sucks in a quick breath. “Not sure. Soon as things smooth out here at home.”
    He told me on the train ride in that he lives in the city with his mother but that he was staying with his grandmother for a while. He wouldn’t elaborate.
    “But, aren’t you in school?”
    He raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you in school?”
    “I’m homeschooled.”
    “Ah,” is all he replies.
    “Not like those freaks who don’t leave the house and have no friends or social life, though,” I say. Actually, one-hundred-percent, exactly like those kids.
    “Well, I’m doing online courses right now, too,” Gabe says. Like we’re the same. Like he has any clue what my existence is like.
    “That’s cool,” is all I say.
    “Okay, so, school at home. What do you do for fun then?”
    I follow Gabe around a corner, trying to keep up with his quick pace even though his legs are much longer than mine. I don’t have any idea where we’re going, but I can’t stop staring at the people we pass. Wondering where they’re going in their suits and dresses and khakis—whether they appreciate that they’re able to walk down the street and do whatever they want without having to answer to anyone.
    “I paint.”
    “I said for fun.”
    “Hey,” I playfully swat at his arm. “Painting is fun. To me. It’s like, cars are your hobby, right?”
    He shrugs. “I guess so, but the options are a little limited out in Gloucester...”
    “True. So painting is my hobby. And to be fair, I’ve never had to hop a train and then haul butt across town to pick up a paint brush, so—”
    “It’s right here,” Gabe says. He pulls the door open to a non-descript, dimly lit shop that I would have walked right past if he hadn’t stopped me.
    Inside there is nothing more than two metal folding chairs on a dirty linoleum floor, a beat up counter, and a flickering overhead light. The walls are painted a deep gray and the long blue counter’s paint is chipping.
    “This is it?” I ask, raising a worried brow.
    “What’d you expect?” Gabe leans into the counter.
    “I don’t know,” I say, pulling the coat tighter around me. For the first time since we left Gloucester, I feel like this may be exactly one of the poor decisions my parents have always said I’d make if left on my own. “Somewhere I may not get hepatitis.”
    “I’m here to pick up a car part, Lena, not a prom dress,” Gabe says.
    The flimsy door behind the counter opens and a young guy with a scruffy face and a grease covered t-shirt comes in.
    “Can I help you?” he asks.
    “I’m here to pick a special order from Paul,” Gabe says.
    Counter-dude looks me up and down. Gabe notices. I know because Gabe takes a step forward and blocks half of my body with his tall frame.
    “Aluminum valve cover for a Corvair,” Gabe says, staring down counter-guy. “He called me, said I could grab it before closing.”
    “A Corvair? Like the car from Mr. Holland’s Opus ?” Counter-guy asks.
    “Yep,” Gabe gives a