That was how it started.

They met after work. He smelled of grease, she smelled of soap and cloth. They ate burgers at Carter’s, sat in the back of his old Chevrolet, looked at the lights of the small town, and talked as if life owed them something bigger than what they saw around them. That was what they shared most. Hunger. Not just for money. For life. For something that did not end in rent, the garage, the shop register, Sunday service, and the same conversations from the same people.