The rain had gotten worse.
Emma stood beside the curb beneath an umbrella, but the wind kept blowing water underneath it. Her jeans were soaked below the knees, and one sneaker had splashed through a shallow puddle when she stepped too close to the road.
I hurried outside with her.
Vanessa slowed beside us and lowered the passenger window.
“Thank you so much!” I called. “You have no idea how much this helps.”
She smiled briefly.
Then her eyes dropped to Emma’s shoes.
Her expression changed immediately.
“Oh, no.”
I thought she was worried about Emma getting sick.
“What?”
Vanessa stared at the wet sneakers.
“She’s soaked.”
“It’s pouring outside,” I said. “I’m sorry. She’ll take her shoes off if you want. I’ll give you a towel for the seat.”
Vanessa looked past me toward her immaculate cream interior.
“Sarah, I just got this car. I can’t have mud all over the seats.”
