The cameras.
Heated steering wheel.
Paint coating.
Interior protection.
I joked that she loved the SUV more than Sophie.
Vanessa laughed.
“The SUV doesn’t leave granola wrappers in the back seat.”
Everything still felt friendly.
Until the following Thursday.
I woke to rain pounding against the windows.
Emma came into the kitchen already dressed.
“Mom, it’s flooding.”
“It’s raining.”
“The street is basically a river.”
“The street is wet.”
She pulled back the curtain dramatically.
“Look!”
I grabbed my keys.
“Get your raincoat. We’ll pick Sophie up so she doesn’t have to walk through this.”
I ran outside and tried to start my fourteen-year-old Honda.
Nothing.
I turned the key again.
Still nothing.
My stomach tightened.
I knew the battery had been weakening, but I had been hoping it would survive until payday.
I tried my portable jump starter.
Nothing.
School started in twenty-five minutes.
