“No.”
“It won’t give me ten years.”
“No.”
“Then I’m not interested in burning Luna’s life down chasing it.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“You think disappearing protects that kid from everything.”
Mason turned.
“It protected her from this.”
He gestured toward the building.
Dominic answered quietly.
“Or it taught you how to disappear.”
That landed harder than Mason expected.
He picked up his bag.
At the elevator Dominic said:
“The car told on you.”
Mason stopped.
“What?”
“I knew eventually it would.”
Dominic held his gaze.
“You designed too much of yourself into the damn thing.”
Mason left.
At three that afternoon, he collected Luna from Mrs. Alvarez.
She ran toward him.
“You’re early.”
“I am.”
“Did they fix the race car?”
“Yes.”
Her face brightened.
“You did it?”
Mason hesitated.
“Yes.”
Luna smiled.
“Then why are you home?”
Children were ruthless with logic.
“They fired me.”
Her smile vanished.
“Because you fixed it?”
“Because I fixed something I wasn’t supposed to touch.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Luna.”
“It is.”
Mason crouched.
“Sometimes rules matter even when the result is good.”
“Was the car broken?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know how to fix it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you break it more?”
“No.”
“Then stupid.”
Mason rubbed his face.
“You’re six.”
“I know.”
“Can we revisit corporate governance when you’re older?”
“What’s that?”
“Exactly.”
She wrapped her arms around him.
“Are we poor now?”
The question hit him unexpectedly.
Children overheard things.
Rent.
Groceries.
Mrs. Alvarez refusing payment twice.
Mason held her tighter.
“We’re okay.”
“You promise?”
He rarely promised unless certain.
This time he did.
“I promise.”
That night Luna slept.
Mason sat at the kitchen table.
On the wall near the utility closet hung the folded technical drawing he had kept for years.
He removed it.
Opened it.
The paper was worn along its creases.
GT7 TERTIARY FUEL DELIVERY SYSTEM.
M. COLE.
R. VANCE PROJECT REVIEW.
The drawing contained dozens of notes.
One line near the valve housing:
ADD SECONDARY HIGH-TEMP MICRO-SEAL AFTER TEST 6.
TEMPORARY PENDING DIGITAL REVISION.
Temporary.
Ten years later the entire company nearly withdrew from a championship because temporary became invisible.
Mason laughed once.
No humor.
Then he called Dominic.
Four rings.
“I knew you’d call.”
“The car told on me?”
“I stand by that.”
Mason stared at the drawing.
“Did Richard know the originals disappeared?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Mason closed his eyes.
“How much?”