a moment staring at the floor. People get frustrated when cars break down. I get that.
I just wish they understood how hard we’re trying.
By the time the shop started to quiet down, it was almost closing time.
I grabbed a broom and started sweeping under one of the lifts.
That’s when my broom hit something solid.
I bent down and picked it up.
A wallet.
Old leather. Worn from years of use. Thick.
When I opened it, my breath caught.
Inside were stacks of hundred-dollar bills.
Neatly folded.
