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at what she considered a safe distance. Mia watched him lift open the hood with his rag wrapped around his hand, and she held her breath while waiting for his verdict.
    “Well?” she asked, and when it was evident that there wasn’t going to be an explosion, she inched forward and craned her neck to look at the engine.
    Fred unscrewed a cap and pulled out a long stick. “Well . . . well,” he mumbled and then clucked his tongue.
    “Well, what?” Mia prompted, but she had a sinking sensation in her gut telling her that the news wasn’t going to be good.
    “Not a drop of oil in here, missy,” he said, clucking his tongue again and then arching a bushy eyebrow at her. “Shoulda kept an eye on it.”
    “I just bought the car.” Like with her father, Mia felt compelled to defend herself, but now some of Manny’s disjointed gestures and scattered English made more sense. “So what does this mean, exactly?”
    “Well, like I said . . . that engine needs to either be replaced or rebuilt.”
    “Can you do that?”
    “Yep, I damn sure can.”
    Mia let out a sigh of relief, but then her eyes widened. “Um, how much?”
    Fred nibbled on the inside of his lip, causing his mustache to twitch. “Depends on how cheap I can get an engine at the junkyard.”
    “The junkyard?” That sure didn’t sound like somewhere you would want to get something as important as an engine.
    “Where else can I get one? They damned sure don’t grow on trees, you know.”
    Mia bristled a bit—his comment sounded like something her father might say to her. How was she supposed to know where you got car engines? “Can you give me an estimate?”
    He scratched his bristly chin. “Three . . . four thousand.”
    “Dollars?” Mia gasped.
    “No, candy bars.” He chuckled but then sobered. “Sorry ’bout yer luck,” he said in a kind tone.
    Luck? Like money, Mia never really gave luck much consideration, but she found herself sighing. She had purses that cost that much and had never given it a second thought, but now it felt like millions. “But the car isn’t worth that.”
    He shrugged one slim shoulder. “It will be with a new engine. Look, I can make some calls and give you a better idea later today. I’ll search for a deal and treat ya right.”
    “Thank you,” Mia said, not that it mattered. Mia shifted her purse higher on her shoulder while her mind raced. She didn’t have any money or any credit cards except for the gas card. She felt tears well up and felt her chin wobble. Her father was right: At twenty-four years of age, she wasn’t capable of taking care of herself for more than a day, much less all summer. She was going to have to tuck her tail between her legs and call home.
    “Or I could buy it from ya for a few hundred dollars.”
    “But then I wouldn’t have a car.”
    Fred shrugged. “You could put it toward a new one,” he suggested but then looked at her with an odd expression. “You runnin’ from somethin’, girlie?”
    “No! I’m . . . proving something,” she said, as if that explained how she was standing there in clothes that were worth more than her car and no cash in her wallet.
    “I’m guessing you’re broke?”
    “Temporarily.”
    “So that’s a yes.”
    “Yes,” she answered glumly. “Any suggestions?”
    “Could you call somebody for help? To come and get ya or wire ya some money?”
    “No,” she answered firmly. She stiffened her spine. Calling her father was not an option. “Any other thoughts?”
    Fred tilted his head to the side and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Is that bracelet real?”
    “Yes.”
    “You could pawn it.”
    Mia frowned. “You mean take it to one of those places that give you money for your valuables?”
    “Yep, there’s one around the corner on Second Street.”
    Mia had seen these shops on television and perceived them to be scary and seedy. She looked down at the shiny bracelet her father had given her and touched it lightly. It