“Your car is very you,” says Niko, like that’s a compliment. It’s just another piece of crap she inherited and can’t afford to replace. Where she’s sitting, Niko’s gotta see where Jenny kicked the back of her dad’s seat so much the springs got tattooed into the leather.

She’s spent too long thinking about that comment to respond to it naturally, so she just clears her throat and starts the car. The engine coughs and stalls out on the first try. And the second.