Arthur looked at Leo, then back at the little silver car. He seemed to be weighing the memories attached to the metal against the earnest look in the young man's eyes.

"Just Arthur. This was my wife’s car. She passed away last year. I don’t drive much anymore, and my kids want me out of the driver's seat entirely," Arthur said with a wistful smile, patting the silver roof. "Let me show you the paperwork."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Arthur," Leo said, extending his hand.

Scion was a defunct brand, but Leo knew they were just rebranded Toyotas. The lack of a photo usually deterred casual browsers, but to Leo, it suggested an older seller who wasn't tech-savvy. He messaged the seller within four minutes of the post going live.

Leo slid into the driver's seat. The interior was spotless, smelling faintly of peppermint and old fabric. He turned the key. The engine cranked vigorously and settled into a smooth, quiet idle. No smoke came out of the exhaust. He left the car in park for a moment and turned on the heater, then the air conditioning. Both worked perfectly. He tested the power windows, the radio, and the windshield wipers. Everything functioned.

Then came the engine bay. Arthur popped the hood. Leo looked for the warning signs: dark, burnt-smelling oil on the dipstick; milky white residue under the oil cap, which would mean a blown head gasket; or bright green or pink crusts around the radiator, indicating a coolant leak. The oil was a clean, golden amber. The belts looked fresh without cracks. "Can we take it for a spin?" Leo asked. "Of course. You drive."

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