I looked at the rust along the front wheel wells and the 190,000 miles on the odometer.

“Can I leave it parked here until tonight?” I asked.

“I close the gates at six,” he said.

“If it’s still sitting here tomorrow morning, I have to charge you a fifty-dollar daily storage fee.”

I took my purse from the passenger seat and locked the doors.

I had no working car, no money in the bank, and three days until I lost my apartment for good.

I walked out of the auto shop lot and started heading toward Gregory’s neighborhood.