“I’ve got two thousand eight hundred in savings.”

“And you’ve got a truck.”

The blue Ford sat beneath us with the engine still ticking.

I had bought it with my first reenlistment bonus and driven it home eleven times across three states.

It had carried Grandma’s storm windows to the hardware store and back every spring.

“The dealer out on Wade Hampton Road valued it at nine thousand two hundred on Thursday,” Clare said.

“I know what he valued it at.”