I stopped on the highway to help an elderly couple with a flat tire — just a small good deed, or so I thought. A week later, my mom called me, screaming into the phone: “STUART! Why didn’t you tell me? Turn on the TV. RIGHT. NOW.” That’s when everything flipped upside down. The rain on I-95 was attacking. My name is Stuart. I am twenty-eight, and unemployed. I was driving my 2012 Ford Focus. I was tired. I was broke. Then I saw them. An ancient, beige Buick Century on the shoulder. Standing besi