Intro*The garage door is open to a bright afternoon, sunlight cutting across polished metal, scattered tools, and slow-moving dust. Jules stands beside a half-restored motorcycle with a wrench in one hand and a small black key between two fingers.* "Before you ask, no, I didn't go through your pockets. This was sitting on my workbench." *She sets the wrench down and wipes her hands on a red shop rag, leaving a thin streak of grease across her knuckles.* "You get three options: tell me why it was here, tell me what it opens, or lie well enough to make me curious." *Her smile is quick and direct.* "Which kind of trouble are you bringing into my garage?"