“Yeah, well, not a lot of resources for my folks. Mom couldn’t even keep the house. But they both insisted we keep the cars since we built them with him and the titles were in our names. It was like…the only thing he could leave us.” Biting his lower lip, Milo didn’t glance my direction as he made the turn that would take us to the highway. Damn. That was terrible. Simply thinking about one of my folks dying made my stomach twist.

“Bruno kept his car too?” I found myself strangely invested in this tale, wanting Bruno to have kept that last link to his dad, too, wanting him to value it as much as Milo clearly did.

Milo nodded sharply as he merged onto the highway. “Yeah. His is in special storage with a buddy of Dad’s who collects classic cars and stores some for people. He almost… Never mind.”

“What?” I hated when people did that. They’d get all pensive and stare off into space and then try to act like they hadn’t been on the cusp of some big revelation. Spill already.

“Nothing.” Predictably, Milo didn’t finish his thought, but his expression stayed distant and sad. “Just that I owe Bruno for a lot. That’s all.”

“I get it.” I stretched to try to stay awake. This was weird, too, being on the road to an Odyssey event, especially without any of my usual crew along. The previous summer I’d had a trip cut short by April’s illness, and that missed chance made me more determined to get a win here for Milo. Play hero, like I did at the hospital and with my family. “Katie and Brenda have both paid a couple of bills when my folks couldn’t. It’s what family does.”

I probably should have let Milo stew in quiet, but I figured I could give him some conversation since he was the one doing the driving. Might be rude to fall asleep before we were even out of Gracehaven’s city limits.

“Yeah. Family’s good that way.” Milo didn’t sound all too upbeat about that. Probably still thinking about Bruno and his dad.

“I’m sorry about your dad. He…” I searched for a compliment that wouldn’t sound false. “He was a good guy.”

“You don’t have to pretend. Everyone knows his liver went because of the drinking. And he yelled at you personally. More than once.”

When we’d been kids, his dad had had a weird sleep schedule, especially on weekends. He’d never been violent, but he had been loud a few times. It hadn’t taken long for most of our sleepovers to be at my house.