I squeezed Anna’s hand, whispering softly, “We’re going to get to the bottom of this, I promise.” Her fingers twitched, a faint echo of the earlier message, as if acknowledging my promise.

As Mark left to make the call, the room fell silent once more, save for the rhythmic beeping of the machines. I stayed by Anna’s side, the weight of the unfolding mystery pressing heavily on me. If someone had tampered with her brakes, why? What could Anna have possibly known or done to make someone want to harm her so gravely?