Chapter Twelve
"That's enough," I turned and looked at the blue car who commanded from the doorway. "Come on, Stella. Let's go." Mom declared as she entered the room. Detective Spinner scoffed, a smug smile still on his face.

"Well, look who's here. If it isn't Mommy here to save the day." He taunted. Mom shot him a glare cold enough that I thought would turn him into an ice sculpture.

"Don't worry, Stel. They don't have enough to touch you. Just don't say any other word." Mom explained as I slowly drove toward her. Spinner and Bellhousing smirked at me, watching me drive past.

"Don't worry, Stella. We'll be at the race tomorrow." Bellhousing shouted, her brown eyes glimmering with delight. Mom led me out of the station, not letting me out of her sights.

"Mom. W-What are you doing here?" I stuttered, quickly wiping the tears on my face, hoping she couldn't tell that I was crying in there. I didn't want to seem weak.

"Well, I am a lawyer. I think I know how this system works." She explained, her voice sounding stern. I didn't want to push her to shout at me, so I left it at that. I trailed behind her, meeting Dad outside.

"Stella, are you okay? What happened?" He quickly asked, rushing to my side. I shook my head, not wanting to look into his eyes. Was what Detective Spinner and Bellhousing said true? Was I really just my parents' gold mine? Their ticket to a bigger fortune?

"I don't want to talk about it." I softly replied, looking at the ground. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see his face fall, nodding his head.

"It's okay," he comforted, leaning in close of me. "Whenever you're ready." He added before driving off to follow Mom.

I looked behind me, watching them drive off. Mom was in a tense and stressful state now and seemed to be bouncing off the walls trying to get every detail from Dad about what happened.

I let out a soft sigh, turning to follow them. I was a few feet behind, wanting to keep my thoughts as far away from them as possible. They were my parents. They love me with all of their hearts, right? They wouldn't just use me to gain some higher status in the racing world, would they? They wanted me to make my choices, drive on my own path. But then why was I named after a star?

Spinner's voice began to echo in my head, calling me Superstar. Before I realized it, we were back at the track. Most of the people there watched us drive in. After all, they had seen us dragged out my the police just hours ago. We were bound to be a hot topic now.

I was so busy trying to figure how to make this better for Dad that I didn't see the black truck drive up beside me. "Stel, you doing okay?" He asked.

I shook my hood, keeping my eyes forward. "I don't want to talk about it, Ethan." I spat back, anger beginning to take over my body. I knew none of this was his fault, but he was the first person I talked to after my encounter with the detectives. I needed to lash out at someone.

"Stella, what did they do to you? I swear, if I found out they hurt you, I'll-"

"I'm fine, Ethan." I cut off, my eyebrows narrowed down at him as I turned to glare my blue eyes into his brown ones.

"You aren't acting fine," He defended, never losing my gaze. I scoffed, rolling my eyes and beginning to drive away. "Fine. Whatever. Don't talk to me then." He called out, turning away himself.

I cursed to myself. I cursed out the detectives, I cursed out my parents and Ethan. But the person who got all of my hate was Jackson. Somehow, every problem I had led back to that arrogant jerk. God, if only he was here now. I would absolutely smash his face in.

Suddenly, a calm, yellow car rode up beside me. "Hey, Stella." She softly greeted.

"Cruz." I grumbled back, not in the mood to fight with her either. She looked to the ground, obviously fighting with her conscience about what to say.

"I saw you fighting with Ethan. Are you doing okay?" She continued. For some reason, her voice just seemed to loosen all of my tension and worry. I wanted to pour all of my worries out onto this car.

"Cruz," I began, turning to face her. She stopped, her eyes looking into mine with concern. "Do you think my parents only had me to be the next Piston Cup winner?" I asked, nervousness in my voice.

"Of course not. They love you, Stella." She comforted, reaching out to me.

"That's not what I asked."

She looked to the ground, furrowing her eyebrows. "I don't believe your parents would ever have a child just to force them into the racing world," She reworded. I let out a sigh, slightly puckering my lips. "Does that answer your question?" She asked, moving into my view.

"Sorta," I replied, still conflicted with my feelings. "Thanks, Cruz."

"Anytime, sweetheart. I'm all ears." She grinned, driving away. I let out a sigh, deciding that the only way to know was to ask my parents myself.

I took a deep breath, driving towards the pit crew. Thankfully, everyone was gone besides my parents. They had all gone out to clear my name and Dad's, but by this point, I figured it was pointless.

I drove up to the tent, hearing Dad on the phone. "Francesco," Dad happily answered. "I haven't heard from you in awhile. How ya been, buddy?"

I bit my lip, staying outside of the tent. I wanted to hear this conversation. I had met Francesco once in my life when I was very little. Dad had raced him in the World Grand Prix a couple years after I was born. Every time I hear that story, it gets crazier and crazier. All I get out of it was that Mater was working with spies and Dad almost got killed.

"Lightning, it is so good to hear your voice again!" Francesco replied back in his foreign accent. He must have heard the news about Dad racing again this season and made an effort to wish him good luck.

"So, how have your races been this past season? Still kicking everyone's butts, right?" Dad teased, turning around just enough for me to see his smile.

Francesco was silent for awhile, making me think the line got disconnected. "Actually, Lightning," he finally spoke. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about." He slowly replied.

"Oh. I suppose you've heard the news then, huh?" Dad softly chuckled, his smile drooping into a faint frown. This has been killing him. I bet the idea that someone across the world is hearing this just makes it harder to bear.

"Yes," Francesco answered. "But what I really wanted to tell you was that I have been replaced this year. You won't see the name Francesco Bernoulli in the European Circuit Stats again." He explained.

Dad bit his lip. I bit mine as well to keep from gasping out loud. Francesco was replaced? But he and Dad were the top racers in the World Grand Prix. "New Generation Racers have made their way there, too." Dad sighed, closing his eyes.

"They've taken over all of Europe and Asia. There are no more old guys like us, McQueen," Francesco softly replied. "You're our last hope." He added.

Dad jumped back, surprise on his face. "Me? Why me?" He quickly asked.

"You're the last one," he explained. "Were my words just recently stated not enough to get that through your hideous red paint and fenders?" He exclaimed.

Dad shook his hood, a smile on his face. "I guess not." He lightly laughed, making Francesco laugh. A soft smile rested now on my face. Even in a time like this, they were still able to make each other smile.

"I guess, what I'm really trying to say is," Francesco trailed. "Good luck, Lightning McQueen. Make us old, slow racers proud."

"Thank you, Francesco. I will." Dad nodded, determination present in his voice. That's when it hit me. He wasn't just racing for himself anymore. He had to prove that they weren't done racing, that they were going to show the world that they still have what it takes to compete.

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Sorry this took me so long to update! I finally gained back some inspiration for this book! Thank you all for being so patient! See you in the next chapter!