Zack raised his hand in greeting. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Just fine, son, just fine. I was hoping I’d see you today.”

“Were you waiting long? Good thing no one ever uses this place but us.”

Mr. Alvarez smiled. “I think they never use it because they know we’re always out here. That, or Ziggy scares them away.”

“My little marshmallow? Never.”

The two men spent the next few hours bent over Marilyn’s engine. They finished replacing the stuck thermostat like they’d planned, and then checked her belts for wear.

“They don’t make ’em like this anymore,” Mr. Alvarez said fondly, patting Marilyn’s shiny paint job.

“I dunno,” Zack said. “Sometimes I wish she had one of those fancy, computerized brains, so I could get her to tell me what’s wrong with her.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s just a little old. She’s a sixty-nine, after all.”

“Sh,” Zack whispered in a horrified tone. He covered one of her side mirrors with his hand. “She’ll hear you.”

Mr. Alvarez exhaled in a way that reminded Zack of his mother. “I’ve always meant to ask: how did you get your hands on a Firebird in the first place?”

“Dumb luck,” Zack answered. “I saw an ad for her on craigslist one day and thought it was a joke. The guy had no idea what he had. I paid him double what he was asking just because I felt bad.”

“Well, I think it was worth it.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Zack pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time. “I have to get ready for work. Keep an eye on my baby, will you?”

“Which one?” Mr. Alvarez said as Ziggy jumped up on him.

Zack laughed and trotted off toward his apartment. When he’d showered, dressed, and locked the front door, he made his way to work.

The sun was just contemplating setting when he left. LA at dusk was a sight he never got tired of no matter how many times he saw it. Even in the most derelict parts of town, the streets were always filled with lights and sounds and people. It was like living in a little man-made galaxy, a microcosm of sensory input. Zack spent the bus ride staring out the window and thinking about how lucky he was to live here. Much as he understood why his sister had moved away, he didn’t think he could ever do the same.

When he arrived at the office, Colette was waiting for him. Her arms were crossed, her manicured brows were pinched, and one of her black pumps was tapping the ground impatiently.

“I’m guessing you have news,” Zack said as he approached.

“You have a Murmur from a man named John,” she said without preamble.

His pulse leaped into overdrive, but he kept his expression neutral. “It’s nice to see you too.” He pulled off his jacket and walked toward his desk.

Colette followed him. “Is this the same John who called you before?”