She eased her foot onto the gas, and the car rolled forward.
Her movements were more confident than yesterday—still careful, but not rigid. She checked the mirrors without me prompting her. Turned the wheel with smoother hands.
"Nice," I said. "See? Already better."
"I'm trying not to overthink," she replied. "That's the hardest part."
"Driving's mostly muscle memory," I said. "Your brain just needs to stop getting in the way."
She shot me a look. "That sounds like advice you give yourself often."
"Eh, well, maybe."
She drove along the edge of the lot, slow and controlled. Turned the wheel for a wide curve instead of a sharp one. The tires crunched softly over gravel near the curb.
"Brake a little earlier," I said gently.
She did, and the car slowed smoothly instead of jerking.
"Good," I added. "That was perfect."
Her shoulders relaxed just a bit.
