“That sentence is not currently important.”
“It was important to the car.”
Marcus laughed.
“Read the post, Daniel.”
The call ended before Daniel could ask anything else.
He opened the first link.
Karen Hanson’s post filled his screen.
He read it once.
Then again more slowly.
Fifty-two thousand shares.
He refreshed by accident.
Fifty-three thousand.
Thousands of comments stacked beneath Grace’s smiling photograph.
People praised him in words that made him uncomfortable: hero, angel, gentleman, real man. Some called for donations, while others posted reviews of the garage despite never having been customers.
Several people said they wanted to bring their cars to him. One woman had apparently started a hashtag using his name.
Daniel stared at the screen as though waiting for reality to correct itself.
“Dad?”
Chloe stood in his doorway wearing pajama pants and a school sweatshirt.
“You’re up early.”
“My phone won’t stop making noise.”
She looked at his expression.
“Did something happen?”
Daniel held out the phone.
Chloe read the post.
Her eyes widened.
Then she looked at him.
“You did this last night?”
“I fixed a hose.”
“Dad.”
“That is literally what happened.”
“You helped a crying girl for free and made her promise to help someone else someday.”
“She had fifteen dollars.”
“Dad.”
Daniel sighed.
Chloe grinned.
“You’re going viral.”
“I don’t want to go viral.”
“I don’t think you get to vote.”
At breakfast, Chloe read comments aloud until Daniel threatened to confiscate her phone.
“Listen to this one,” she said around a bite of toast. “‘This man is proof that good fathers raise good communities.’ That one is nice.”
“Eat.”
“Here’s another. ‘Somebody start a fundraiser for this garage.’”
“No.”
“You didn’t even think about it.”
“No.”
“‘I’m driving two hours to get my brakes done there.’”
“That is objectively ridiculous.”
Chloe laughed so hard she nearly spilled orange juice.
Daniel dropped her at school twenty minutes later.