Bab 972: Thursday's Guest

I almost had a heart attack when I couldn't find my bike at the usual spot after clocking out of my shift. Thankfully, I was alone at the time so no one else got to question the breadth of my intelligence except for myself. 

Rudy the mechanic continued to keep me updated every few hours or so on any progress he's made—which, according to his latest text, was no progress at all. It didn't matter what he removed or replaced, every twist of the ignition only gave back the exact same result: the feeble, heartbreaking sputter of an engine barely clinging to dear life. 

It's honestly quite disheartening witnessing his confidence slowly whittle away with every new message I get back. While he hasn't yet officially thrown in the towel, and even outright refused when I dare made the suggestion, the writing was clear on the wall to me.