A mechanic tried to charge me $8,000 for a “broken engine”—but what I took out of my purse made him beg me to rip up the bill.

of that.”

He held out his hand, and I gave him the keys.

“My name is Helen.”

He blinked.

“You called me sweetheart.”

“Oh.” His smile stayed in place. “Of course. Helen.”

There was no apology in it.

He pointed toward the waiting area.

A woman in a plain jacket sat there reading a magazine.

I recognized Rebecca right away.

She gave me the smallest nod and returned continue reading …