When Yasmin and I pull up to my house, there’s an unfamiliar car parked in the driveway: an all-black Mercedes in a neighborhood that consists of mostly used cars with hundreds of thousands of miles on them. It stands out like a Great Pyrenees at a kitty daycare.
“Your Christmas present?” Yasmin suggests as she pulls up to let me out. I may be an optimistic person, but even I know that’s totally out of the question.
“Yeah, right.” I shake my head.
“Maybe your dad won big?”
An unsettling feeling swims through my stomach. This car is out of place here, and everything in me is telling me it’s not a good thing.
Again I shake my head, “No…”
I can feel Yasmin looking at me. “Do you want me to stay?”
“That’s okay,” I say, forcing a smile at her. “I’ll see you at work.”
I grab my purse, ho
