Derek brought his face closer to the metal tube.

He rubbed his thumb against his knuckle.

“Brick leaves white chalky dust,” Derek said in his low, gravelly voice.

“This isn’t dust.”

Michael crouched down beside his older brother.

The fluorescent shop lights overhead glinted hard off the damaged paint.

Derek pointed one thick finger at the deep groove gouged into the yellow frame.

“Look right here, down inside the deepest part of the scratch,” Derek said.