Page 224 of When a Soul Cries

Her eyes were huge as they moved from the Mercedes to me and back again.

“What?” I asked, already fighting a smile.

She lifted one hand and pointed at the car. “What the hell is that?”

I glanced over my shoulder like I needed to check.

“Looks like a car.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Roman.”

A laugh broke free as I pulled the key fob from my pocket.

“Come here.”

“No.”

“You ain’t even seen inside.”

“And I don’t need to!”

I pressed the button anyway.

The Mercedes chirped softly, its lights flashing across the driveway.

Sol planted one hand on her hip and stared at me like she was trying to decide whether she wanted to cuss me out or cry.

I opened the driver’s door.

“Come look.”

She hesitated, looking from me to the car again.

Eventually, curiosity won.

Sol approached slowly and leaned toward the open door.

The second she saw the interior, her expression changed.

Cream leather seats stood out beautifully against the black exterior, with black accents running through the cabin. Soft ambient lighting traced the dashboard and door panels, while a wide digital display stretched across the dash. Everything looked untouched—the steering wheel, spotless console, polished trim.

The new-car smell spilled into the night air.

Sol leaned closer, her eyes moving over everything.

“Rome…”

I leaned one arm against the open door. “Nice, ain’t it?”

Her fingertips brushed lightly across the cream leather like she was afraid touching it too hard might somehow ruin it.

“This is brand-new?”

“Yeah.”

Her head snapped toward me.