"Let the record show: this Ferrari was rebuilt forty years ago by a master named Samuel Carter. And today, it was saved by his son after forty certified experts gave up." He paused. "I want that name on the auction listing tonight. Both of them, where they always should have been."
A murmur of approval moved through the room. Dela, in the doorway, pressed her apron to her face and wept.
Then Walter Hayes rose from his stool and put a weathered hand on Theo's shoulder.
"Son," he said, "I closed my shop ten years ago because I never found anyone worth teaching everything I know." His voice was steady and sure. "I'd like to reopen it for you, if you'll have an old man as a partner."
Theo stared at him, unable to speak.
"I can't pay much at first," Walter added with a small smile, "but you'll have your name on the door in big brass letters: Carter & Hayes. The way your father's never was."
The garage went quiet again, but it was a warm quiet now. Somewhere behind them, the great red engine ticked softly as it cooled, the sound of a heart at rest. A boy who walked in carrying coffee was about to walk out carrying a future.
But one person in that room was not celebrating.
Harrison Wells turned to face Garrett Boyd. The garage went cold.
Boyd straightened, reaching for the authority he had worn so easily three minutes ago. "Mr. Wells, a lucky guess from a boy does not erase three days of professional—"