His face was calm.
His eyes were kind.
I can see your car broke down, he said, his voice steady and gentle.
My name is Owen.
I work just down the road.
Let me help you.
Lisa stared at him.
She had been told her whole life not to trust strangers, especially in neighborhoods like this one.
But something in his eyes, something honest and quiet, made her crack the window open just a little.
How do I know I can trust you? She asked.
He smiled softly.
You don’t, he said.
But those men coming behind me, you definitely cannot trust them.
So, your best option right now is me.
She looked in her rearview mirror.
The group of men had stopped a few meters away, watching.
She unlocked the door.
Owen did not take advantage.
He did not ask for her name, her number, or her story.
He walked around to the front of the car, popped the hood, and went to work.
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