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She's a great girl with a big heart," he says.

Up ahead, you see a wood-and-metal bridge with a right turn leading to an interstate. A gust of wind blows paper trash up and over the low side railing. Your van moves swiftly toward the crossing, and as you note the Slow for Bridge: 35 MPH traffic sign, you glance at the speedometer—80.

"We're going a bit fast, Uncle Lou," you say. The look on the man's face and the sound of him pumping the brakes tell you something is wrong.

"Brakes aren't working," he says.

"I thought this van was in working condition."

"It was… Tom fixed it up before we left."

The van swerves as Uncle Lou fights to keep control. The motor roars as the speed increases, and the tires squeal under the pressure of the racing vehicle. You are helpless as the van careens closer to the bridge. Your hands push at the dashboard, and you lift your feet to brace them against the front panel.