The soft, synthetic scent of high-grade Nappa leather filled the cabin as Sienna Flynn sank into the driver’s seat. The instrument cluster came to life with a futuristic hum, the digital display glowing with a crisp, crystalline clarity. To Sienna, who had spent the last several years coaxing a temperamental Volkswagen to start every morning, the seamless mechanical perfection of the Mercedes felt like a hallucination. She ran her hands over the steering wheel, her touch light, as if she were afraid the entire car might dissolve into mist if she gripped it too hard.
"Dominic," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the whisper-quiet climate control. "This isn't real. This can't be real. Where did this come from? How are we sitting in a brand-new luxury sedan?"
Dominic Mylod adjuste
