The Bench: This Isn't a Car Jacking

"I'm sorry, can I help you?" Denise asked the person in question. The stranger blinked. It was a teenage black girl she'd never seen before. The girl moved past her, getting into the driver's seat of her car, where she'd left the keys, and started it up. Denise didn't know what to make of that. She tried to figure it out. A voice in the back of her head told her that she couldn't afford a car like that.