I rode Papa's bike back to his old garage through the empty streets, my heart still pounding from everything that had happened. The adrenaline was wearing off now, replaced by exhaustion and the sobering reality of what I'd just done.
I actually won. I can't believe I actually won.
I parked the bike in the same corner where I'd found it, carefully covering it with the old tarp and some dusty clothes I found scattered around the garage. The last thing I needed was for someone to discover Papa's bike and start asking questions about where it had been.
"Stay hidden, girl," I whispered to the motorcycle as I arranged the covering. "We might need to do this again."
I checked the alley three times before leaving the garage, making sure no one was watching or following me. The walk home felt
