Sir stood there in the parking lot, arms crossed, watching Earl try to decide whether to look ashamed or confused.

Bucky hovered behind him like a nervous punctuation mark.

Spine stepped forward, calm as ever.

“I was going to write an official complaint,” she said.

Earl’s head snapped up.

Bucky’s pencil froze mid‑air.

Sir didn’t move — he just waited.

Spine continued:

“But I understand learning the ropes.

And making mistakes.

I’ve made my share.”

Earl blinked, surprised she wasn’t breathing fire.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything that ruined your life,” she said, steady and honest.

“Even though Lula’s been doing everything she can to destroy mine.”

That hit Earl harder than any complaint ever could.

Sir nodded once — slow, respectful.

“That’s called integrity,” he said.

“Something Lula can’t spell, much less practice.”

Bucky looked at Spine like she’d just taught a masterclass.

Spine turned to Sir:

“I’ll leave it to you to teach him the difference between Lula Law and Florida law.”

Sir gave a half‑smile — the kind a man gives when he knows he’s got work to do but appreciates the trust.

“Oh, I’ll teach him,” he said.

“And he’ll learn it.

Or he’ll be back at the flea market returning that uniform.”

Earl swallowed hard.

Spine walked away with her dignity intact.

Earl stayed behind with a lesson coming.

Sir and Bucky exchanged a look that said:

“Well… time to un‑Lula this boy.”