The brand that did not travel
Camille Ouimet needed one car that worked, not a project. The crossover was advertised in Ottawa at 118,000 km: one owner, no accidents, Ontario permit in hand. The photographs were clean, the lot was small and tidy, and the test drive went the way test drives go.
She ran the VIN that evening, mostly because it took a minute. Ontario held nothing against the car — no brand, no lien, no write-off. The Quebec register, queried off the same seventeen characters, carried a 2022 entry marked reconstruit after a right-front impact, with a rebuild inspection filed a few months later.
The car confirmed it. Paint on the right front fender read 372 micrometres against 108 to 124 everywhere else. The apron seams on that side had been resealed, and the front-right restraint loop had been spliced into the original harness rather than replaced. The module's event record still held the deployment from 2022, four years before anyone advertised the car as accident-free.
The lot's account was honest as far as it went. They had bought the car at auction with an Ontario permit, and the permit said nothing about Quebec. A brand is written down by the province that issues it, and it stays where it was written. Nothing obliges it to follow the car across a border.
Camille sent the sheet over on the Monday. The listing came down the same week. Three weeks later she bought a 2019 sedan in Kanata — 74,000 km, one owner on the paperwork, four readings that matched each other.
A brand lives with the VIN, not with the paperwork in the glovebox.