“My dad owns every law firm in this province,” the lawyer’s daughter laughed after ramming her brand-new Tesla into my old Subaru

held them out between two glossy nails. “Three hundred bucks. That’ll totally cover it.”

I looked at the money. Then at her.

“I don’t want cash,” I said, keeping my voice careful and even. “I want your insurance information. We’ll do this properly.”

That was when she actually looked at me. Really looked.

Her sunglasses slid down a fraction, revealing eyes continue reading …