Chapter 2: The Boy Who Knew Too Much
The garage remained frozen in silence.
The supercar's engine purred perfectly.
Not a single warning light blinked on the dashboard.
The mechanics stared at one another in disbelief.
Hours of diagnostics.
Thousands of dollars in equipment.
And somehow a dirty little boy had fixed the problem in less than five minutes.
The millionaire slowly approached the car.
His anger had vanished.
Only confusion remained.
"How did you do that?" he asked.
The boy shrugged.
"The fuel sensor wire was disconnected."
The head mechanic's face turned pale.
"That's impossible. We checked every sensor."
The boy looked at him.
"You checked the computer. I checked the car."
A few mechanics lowered their eyes in embarrassment.
The millionaire studied the child more carefully now.
The boy couldn't have been older than ten.
His clothes were worn.
His sneakers had holes in them.
Yet his eyes carried a strange confidence.
"Who taught you?" the millionaire asked quietly.
For the first time, the boy hesitated.
"My dad."
The garage fell silent again.
"Where is he now?"
The boy's expression darkened.
"He died three years ago."
Something in his voice made the millionaire stop asking questions.
Instead, he reached into his wallet.
"I'm paying you for the repair."
The boy immediately shook his head.
"I didn't do it for money."
"Then why?"
The boy looked toward the office window.
Because taped inside the glass was an old photograph.
A photograph of the garage twenty years earlier.
And standing beside a younger version of the millionaire...
Was the boy's father.
The millionaire followed his gaze.
May you like
Then his entire body froze.
Because he recognized that face instantly.
