For the most part, Chris's words bounce right off of Wilhelm, as if his mood is an electric field charged around him, or a stone wall sequestering him. But his lips twitch in the ghost of a laugh when he says he once stole a car like this.

All sleek curves and shiny surfaces, the Ferrari waits at the side of an unfinished road that leads to the rose garden. Wilhelm thumbs the key fob, and the lights flash with a smooth beep. Sliding into the red leather driver's seat, he gestures for Chris to join him by patting the headrest of the passenger seat.

"Did you get caught?" he asks as he clicks the key in the ignition. The engine purrs, and the stereo starts pumping out music, which he softens with the twist of a knob.