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Leo looked at her sneakers—gray, scuffed at the toes, laces tied together like a promise to stay paired. “You walk here?”

He laughed—a real one, rusty at the hinges. “Fair. I’m Leo.” Leo looked at her sneakers—gray, scuffed at the

She sat two machines down, barefoot, reading a battered paperback by the light of her phone. Her sneakers were tied together by their laces and slung over the machine’s handle. Every few seconds, she’d look up at her own churning load—a sea of dark denim and one startling red scarf—as if checking that it was still there. As if the machine might run off with it. Leo looked at her sneakers—gray