Hey, it's okay. Marcus held up his hands. Take a breath. What happened? The first twin, the one who'd spoken first, pointed at the car.
We were driving home from a charity event and the engine just stopped. We pulled over and it won't start again. Marcus looked at the vehicle for the first time. His eyebrows rose. A Mercedes-Benz S-Class.
The kind of car that cost more than Marcus would make in 5 years, maybe 10. Mind if I take a look? He asked. Please, they said in unison. Marcus walked around to the front of the Mercedes and popped the hood.
The engine was pristine, probably maintained by some fancy dealership where they charged $300 for an oil change. But even fancy cars had basic problems. He leaned in. Rainwater streaming down his face and found it almost immediately. Battery terminals, he called out.
They're corroded. Connections loose. Can you fix it? The second twin appeared at his elbow, hugging herself against the cold. Marcus shook his head.
Not out here. Not in this storm. You need a jump start at minimum. Probably a new battery. He closed the hood and turned to face them.
Look, there's a hotel about 15 minutes up the road. I can give you a ride you can call a tow in the morning. The twins exchanged a glance that silent communication thing that twins did. You do that? The first one asked.
You don't even know us. Marcus shrugged, rain dripping off his chin. Can't leave you out here. Come on, before we all drown. They grabbed their bags from the Mercedes designer luggage that probably cost more than Marcus' car and climbed into his Honda.
The contrast was almost funny. Almost. I'm Sophie, the one in the passenger seat said as Marcus pulled back onto the highway. This is my sister, Maya. Marcus, thank you for stopping, Marcus.
Maya leaned forward from the back seat. Seriously, we were starting to think no one would. People are scared these days, Marcus said, keeping his eyes on the road. Can't really blame them. But you stopped, Sophie pointed out.
Marcus was quiet for a moment. The wipers slapped back and forth. Rain drummed on the roof. I have a daughter, he finally said. She's six.
If she was ever stranded somewhere scared and alone in a storm like this, I'd want someone to stop for her. The car fell silent. "What's her name?" Maya asked softly. "Lily."