Page 3

I smile to myself as I unzip my overnight bag. Some things never change. And that's a good thing.

I grab my own black bra and a pair of matching thongs and put them on. Then I slip into the dress and zip the back as high as I can. I step in front of the full-length window and stare at my faded reflection.

Not bad.

Carla comes barreling through the door. "Are you⁠—"

I spin. "What?"

A smile explodes, and she claps. "Yes! Now this is what I'm talking about!"

My cheeks heat, and I groan. "You're so dramatic."

She gasps and reaches for her bra. "Tell me you aren't wearing a white bra!"

"No, Carla. I'm not wearing a white bra. But I did bring my own."

Her eyes squint. "You did?"

"Yes. Now come zip me up before I put my jeans back on," I order and spin.

She obeys, and her phone dings. "Driver's here!"

I toss my ID, lipstick, credit card, and cell in the clutch and follow her outside.

We climb into the car. I pull the door shut, glance at the empty driver's seat, and frown.

"Where's the driver?"

The car eases away from the curb.

I grab the armrest and whip my head toward Carla. "Lord have mercy. Who's driving this thing?"

She laughs so hard she snorts. "The car."

"I can see that."

"You've never ridden in one before?"

"I've barely learned how to use the air fryer I bought six months ago."

The car stops at the end of the driveway, waits for a pickup to pass, then turns onto the road. The steering wheel spins on its own.

"It's like a ghost is driving," I blurt out, keeping one eye on the windshield and the other glued to the empty driver's seat.

"Yeah. Isn't it awesome?" Carla beams.

"This doesn't seem safe."

She laughs. "It's safer than me driving."

"That's because you drive like the devil's chasin' you," I remind her.

"I've never had an accident."

I snort. "You've given me several near-death experiences."

She grins. "You survived every one of 'em."