Isis' POV
When I first got into the car that morning, something had felt off. It was subtle at first, almost laughable. The steering wheel felt a little too light beneath my palms, the response just a fraction slower than usual. I remember frowning, tilting my head slightly as I pulled out of the driveway, trying to decide if I was imagining it.
I told myself I was tired. Emotional. Pregnant and hormonal. I had never been good with cars. Machines intimidated me. If it turned on and moved, that had always been enough for me.
So I ignored the feeling.
After meeting Valeria at the café, the sensation became harder to dismiss. When I pressed the brake pedal at a red light, it dipped lower than it should have. My heart skipped, a quick flutter of unease tightening my chest.
But the car st
