Silas

It was especially hot this time of the year in the area, but today’s sun was scorching. I’d already stripped out of my coveralls, tying the sleeves around my waist to let some air hit my skin.

I was soaked. A black tank top had seemed like a good idea at six in the morning, but by noon in a tin-roofed shop, it was just a heat magnet.

I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, realizing a second too late that I was covered in engine muck. “Aw, goddammit,” I cursed under my ...