Ray nodded, leading him toward a row of compacts near the back. "Those are the 'Value Specials.' No credit check, just proof of income and a local address. We do the financing right here."

He stopped in front of a lot with a neon sign flickering:

"Looking for something I can afford," Marcus corrected. "The sign says five hundred down."

Marcus looked at a white Nissan Altima. It had a few scratches on the bumper, but the tires looked decent. He thought about the 45-minute bus ride he’d just taken—a trip that usually took twelve minutes by car. He thought about the shifts he could pick up if he wasn't beholden to the Lynx bus schedule. "I’ve got the five hundred," Marcus said.

An hour later, Marcus sat in the small, air-conditioned office. The paperwork was thick. The interest rate was high—higher than he wanted to think about—and the payments were weekly. If he missed one, the GPS tracker on the car would make sure Ray knew exactly where to send the tow truck.

"Plus tag and title fees," Ray added softly. "But we can work with you on the rest."

He wasn't just buying a car; he was buying his time back. As he pulled out onto the humid Orlando streets, the city finally felt small enough to conquer again.