As they moved toward the garage doors, Victor reached into his pocket and took out the Ferrari key. Noah looked at it with an expression so open that Angela felt a sudden pang of memory. She had seen him look the same way at six, when Marcus gave him his first little tool kit. Victor held the key between two fingers. "Before we go, I have a small ceremony in mind," he said.
"The car is off. Greg is going to supervise. You may sit in the driver's seat for a moment if your mother agrees. I want you to know what your father helped preserve."
Angela checked Greg's face, and he nodded. The vehicle was secured and would remain stationary for the visit. Noah opened the low door carefully, mindful of the polished paint, and lowered himself into the seat. The old leather smelled warm and unfamiliar, while the large steering wheel seemed almost too big for his narrow shoulders. He rested his hands on it and looked at the circular instruments, remembering that Marcus once sat in a similar position after repairing the car many years earlier. He held the key without turning it.
"Dad would have loved this," Noah whispered. Nobody answered immediately. Victor stood just beyond the open door, giving him space to experience the moment without turning it into a performance. Angela watched her son's face change as memory and delight passed through it together. She wished Marcus could see him, not because the expensive car was proof that Noah had become somebody, but because his patience and curiosity had survived the years without him.
When Noah climbed out, Victor held out his hand for the key. "Now for the ride," he said. Noah looked startled. "Really?" "A short one, on the estate road, with the proper checks and an adult driving.
You can be my passenger if your mother agrees. Then, if Angela wants, I'll take her around as well." Angela hesitated because the car's reputation made it feel intimidating, but Greg showed her the inspection report and explained how they would handle the controlled drive. She gave her consent after Victor promised to proceed slowly.
Noah climbed into the passenger seat and fastened the belt. Victor took his place at the wheel, paused before starting the engine, and looked toward the boy. "Your dad sat in cars like this," he said. "I wish I'd spent more time listening when I had the chance."
Noah considered the confession. "You can listen now," he answered. Victor nodded, then turned the key. The engine woke cleanly, its familiar mechanical voice filling the morning air.