You remember Julian's lime green Geo Tracker crunching to a halt over gravel. You jumped out and felt the sand beneath your feet, still hot hours after sunset, though the night air felt cool. Julian was well dressed despite the rough work, but back then you always wore the same thing when out in the desert: coveralls with the name you used sewn on a patch.
Not your real name, of course. That person died around the corner from a Target loading dock.
You still call yourself—