Adrian glanced at the growing crowd.
He wanted to win the moment.
“Fine,” he said with a grin. “One minute.”
Nia walked toward the car slowly.
A small wooden stool sat nearby, so she dragged it over and climbed up to reach the open hood.
Her sleeve brushed the shiny metal, and she flinched as if expecting someone to yell at her.
But no one did.
She leaned forward and listened.
Adrian had tried the key earlier—weak clicks, weak power.
Not a dead engine.
Just something small stopping it.
Her eyes moved toward the battery.
One cable was slightly loose.
Just enough to stop the connection.
It looked tiny.
But sometimes the smallest problem shuts everything down.
Nia reached in carefully and tested it with two fingers.
It moved too easily.
Behind her, someone snickered.
“She thinks she’s a mechanic.”
Nia stiffened but didn’t turn around.
“Please stop,” she said quietly.
The laughter faded.
She pulled a bent hairpin from her hair and used it to push the clamp back into place. Then she wrapped her sleeve around her hand and twisted the connection tighter with all her strength.
Her arms trembled—not just from effort, but from fear.
Fear that even if she fixed it, they would still accuse her of breaking it.