Fleet work.
Maybe eventually a fixed shop of her own.
“I don’t have enough saved.”
“Yet.”
Alyssa nodded.
“Yet.”
The word helped.
She stopped thinking of Ridgeway as somewhere she had become stuck.
It was somewhere she was learning.
March brought Raymond’s announcement that he planned to reduce his hours after summer.
He wanted Alyssa to begin taking on more operations work.
Ordering.
Schedules.
Vendor communication.
Possibly assistant manager by autumn.
Madison heard before Raymond made the decision official.
That afternoon, she confronted Lauren near the break room.
“So she gets everything.”
Lauren looked uncomfortable.
“What?”
“The promotion.”
“Ray hasn’t announced anything.”
“He doesn’t have to.”
Lauren shrugged.
“She’s good at it.”
Madison stared.
“You’re taking her side now?”
“I’m not taking sides.”
“Yes, you are.”
Lauren lowered her voice.
“Madison, we screwed up.”
“That was months ago.”
“It keeps being months ago because you keep talking about it.”
Madison walked away.
Lauren later told investigators that was the moment she realized the conflict was no longer about the side jobs.
Madison had begun measuring herself against Alyssa.
Every compliment Alyssa received became something Madison believed she had lost.
Every responsibility Alyssa gained felt stolen.
That kind of resentment rarely stays rational.
Then came Customer Appreciation Saturday.
Ridgeway ran the event every spring.
Discounted premium washes.
Free coffee.
Food trucks.
Giveaways.
Raymond invited several long-time customers and former employees.
By noon, every wash bay was busy.
It was exactly the wrong day for drama.
Alyssa arrived at seven thirty.
Black work pants.
Black zip jacket.
White sneakers.
Gold hoops.
Her braids tied back.
She spent most of the morning moving between stations because two employees called out.
Madison worked exterior rinse.
Lauren handled interior finish.
Raymond remained on site.
So did Tom Reyes and Frank Miller, two older employees who had worked at Ridgeway nearly since it opened.
For several hours, everyone behaved.
Then a customer with a gray SUV requested extra hand cleaning around the roof rails.
Alyssa rolled the detailing cart into Bay Four.
She filled a bucket.
Selected the long yellow brush.
Started working.
Madison was at the next station holding the pressure hose.
Lauren stood near a red bucket talking to her.
Alyssa did not hear the conversation.
A customer’s phone later captured part of it.
Madison looked toward Alyssa.
Lauren said something.
Madison smiled.
Then she aimed the hose.
The first blast hit Alyssa directly in the upper chest and face.
Water and foam exploded around her.
Alyssa threw her forearm across her eyes.
The long brush nearly slipped from her other hand.