My Brother Became a Mechanic, I Became the Heir

Mr. Jude was startled for a moment. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and studied me for two seconds before nodding. “All right.”

Grayson Zane whipped around to look at me. His lips moved soundlessly, his eyes filled with disbelief.

I did not look back at him.

“Grayson, what do you think?” asked Mrs. Hayes, the director, as she bent down with a smile on her face.

“I’ll go home with Mr. and Mrs. Warren, who run the auto shop!” Grayson’s voice trembled as he threw himself at them. “I really like you both! And I love cars too. I promise I’ll be a good boy!”

Mr. Warren rubbed his oil-stained hands against his pants over and over before finally daring to pat Grayson on the shoulder.

“Good boy. If you’d like to learn how to fix cars, I’ll teach you everything I know!”

Mrs. Warren immediately pulled Grayson into her arms. The plastic bag slipped from her hand and rolled across the ground, sending a few oranges tumbling out. Her eyes turned red. “Oh, you poor sweetheart. Aren’t you just precious?”

I stood beside Mr. Jude and watched them embrace. A faint ache stirred in my chest.

In the previous life, those same hands had taken me away from the orphanage. They taught me how to tighten bolts, change tires, and diagnose problems just by listening to the engine.

Everything my adoptive father taught me was enough to carry me through two lifetimes.

This time, Grayson was going with them instead, and that was fine. Grayson and I grew up together. He was not a bad person by nature. He simply wanted a warm, lively family, and I knew that.

“Your name’s Huxley?” Mrs. Jude looked down at me. “Are your things packed?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go.” She turned around and walked away. The sharp click of her leather shoes echoed through the hallway.

Mr. Jude picked up my duffel bag for me.

As we passed Grayson, he was clinging to Mr. Warren’s arm, sobbing so hard that his whole body shook. Tears and snot covered his face.

Mrs. Warren wiped his face as she laughed. “Silly boy, you have a family now. What are you crying for?”

Once we stepped outside the orphanage, Mr. Jude pressed a button on his key fob. Two yards away, a black SUV beeped.

Mrs. Jude opened the rear door and said, “Get in.”

I climbed inside. The leather seat felt cool against my skin, and the car smelled faintly of pine.

Mrs. Jude got into the passenger seat and turned to me. “Your room is ready. If you need anything, just tell Mrs. Quinn.”

Her tone was polite, as though she were welcoming a young guest into her home.

“Thank you, Mrs. Jude.”

She nodded and said nothing more.

Mr. Jude started the engine. Its deep rumble filled the car.

By the iron gate, Mrs. Warren was carrying Grayson out of the orphanage while Mr. Warren followed behind with his duffel bag.

I leaned back in my seat and watched the iron gate of the orphanage grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

I was grateful to the Warrens for taking care of me in my previous life. This time, Grayson would be there to keep them company.

I quietly let out a sigh of relief.

My new life had just begun.

…

Mrs. Quinn was waiting for us at the entrance of the mansion. She wore a gray uniform with a neatly tied apron. When she saw me, she put on a smile.

“Huxley, you’re here. Your room is upstairs, the one facing south. You’ll get plenty of sunlight in the morning.”

“Thank you.”

She reached out and took the duffel bag from my hands.

Mrs. Jude slipped off her coat and hung it in the foyer. Without turning around, she said, “Mrs. Quinn, keep dinner light. Huxley is still growing.”

“Of course, ma’am. There’ll be herb-roasted fish, vegetable soup, and a light egg dish.”

I followed Mrs. Quinn upstairs. The solid-wood staircase creaked softly beneath our feet.

When Mrs. Quinn pushed open the door, I stood there for a moment, stunned. An entire rack of tools lined the wall, not toys.

Wrenches, socket sets, screwdrivers, torque wrenches, and multimeters… Each tool hung neatly from its own hook, polished to such a shine that it caught the light.