The repair work moved forward under adult supervision. Diesel handled the heavier assemblies, Crow checked the electrical system, and Butcher took responsibility for the engine's condition and final inspection. Brian organized parts, tracked measurements, and identified several small details from his grandfather's notebook that saved time. When a mounting bracket seemed to be missing, he remembered seeing a spare clipped inside a coffee can among the older parts and found it exactly where he expected.
"You got a map of this place in your head?" Crow asked.
Brian shrugged. "Grandpa used to take me here when I was little. I remember the shelves."
"He didn't bring you here often," Rex said from behind them.
"No. Only twice when I was really small. But he talked about the place like he could still see it. I used to imagine it when he told stories."
Rex looked around the room through the boy's eyes. It was an ordinary repair shop with stained floors, a ceiling fan that rattled, and cupboards missing their original handles. Yet James had described its corners so vividly that his grandson felt at home among objects he had barely encountered. Memory, Rex thought, had preserved more of their friendship than he had understood.
Around lunchtime Millie returned with new information. A licensed local caregiver named Denise Harlan was willing to provide short-term placement if it became necessary, pending the agency's approval. Denise lived close enough to Brian's school and the hospital that visits could continue, and she had experience helping children whose families were dealing with medical crises. It was not the answer Brian wanted, but it was a real alternative to Springfield.
"Does she know anything about motorcycles?" Brian asked.
Millie smiled. "I don't know. I suspect you're going to have to teach her."
"I don't want to be rude. I just wanted to stay here."
"I know." She sat beside him on an empty stool. "But a safe plan that isn't perfect is better than a perfect plan that can't happen in time. We can keep working toward Rex being approved, and we can keep you connected to your grandfather and your friends."
Brian studied the folded edges of his school assignment. "So the bike doesn't decide?"
"No," Millie answered. "The bike is a promise between you and your grandfather. Your right to be cared for isn't something you have to win by fixing it."
He looked at her as though she had said something he wanted to believe but had not expected anyone to say aloud. For the first time since entering Thunderfork, he considered the possibility that the motorcycle could fail and the people around him might still stay. The thought was both comforting and frightening, because it left him with no task he could complete to guarantee an outcome.
In the afternoon, Brian went with Rex to County General. James was awake when they arrived, though his gaze wandered and his words had not returned. A physical therapist had been working with him earlier, and the nurse explained that progress after a stroke could be uneven. The hospital was reviewing options for specialized rehabilitation and would determine transfer arrangements according to medical need and eligibility, rather than promises made by anyone outside the treatment team.