Page 127 of The Perfect Mistake

“Right. It’s been a long night,” Elena says. “Made even longer by the drunk college students inside that place. Thanks for letting me crash at your place.”

“Of course.” I open the back door for them, and Elena climbs in first. Isabel’s eyes linger on mine for a moment more before she follows her sister.

It’s hard to focus on anything besides my anger. How could this have happened? Who did this to them? I settle my hands on the steering wheel and grip it too hard.

Isabel sighs in the backseat. I look into the rearview mirror and see her resting her head against the seat, her eyes half-closed. “I can’t wait to get home,” she says.

I look back at the road. “What happened?”

“We were walking towards the subway stop, and… it just happened. It was so quick.”

“Three guys came up to us,” Elena says. “They asked us for wallets and keys.”

“They had a knife,” Isabel adds.

“They had what?”

“They flashed it at us. I’m not sure they would have actually used it or anything. They were just teenagers.” She shakes her head, and I look back at her through the mirror. “It was unsettling.”

“Unsettling? It was scary AF,” Elena says. “My first response was to laugh, but they were dead serious about it all. My keys were in my wallet. Tucked neatly into the coin pocket so I wouldn’t lose them. I can’t believe this happened. I think I’m still in shock.”

“Yeah, me too,” Isabel says. “At least you killed your set.”

Elena chuckles. “Thanks. You know, as awful as this experience has been, I will definitely add it to my next routine.”

“I can’t wait to be able to laugh about it,” Isabel says.

Despite their attempt at easy normalcy, their voices sound strained. Hearing that unease makes my blood boil.

“Did you get a good look at them?” I ask.

“It was pretty dark,” Isabel says. “But Elena and I have spoken about it, and we’ll go to the police station tomorrow.”

“Mac will drive you,” I say. “He’ll drive you everywhere from here on out, especially if you’re going out at night.”

There’s silence in the backseat.

“That’s a kind offer,” Isabel finally says.

A kind offer?

I want to swaddle her up in bubble wrap and never let her out of my sight again. Mac driving her around isn’t kind. It’s for my own goddamned sanity.

I reach into my pocket for the phone and hand it back to them without taking my eyes off the road. “See if you can call your banks. Cancel all your cards.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Elena says. “Well, if they wanted money, they chose the wrong person to rob. My checking account was already in the red.”

Isabel chuckles, but it sounds weak. “Yeah.”

Fuck that. I’ll ask her what money they stole, and I’ll pay it all back. To both of them. Those motherfuckers won’t leave a lasting mark.

I listen to them, first Isabel and then Elena, call emergency hotlines for banks and credit cards. They’re done by the time I pull into my building’s underground garage.

Elena jumps out before I can open her door, and Isabel follows right after. The need to pull her into my arms feels overwhelming. An itch inside my chest, and only feeling her against me will soothe it.

I lock it down and force it away. Her sister doesn’t know.

We ride the elevator up to the penthouse. Isabel talks softly to Elena, about the guest room, and how she can’t wait to have a shower and something cold to drink, and the kindness of the chatter makes my anger sharpen.

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