The workshop bay smelled of grease, old oil, and dust. The shutters had slammed down with a heavy metallic finality, sealing the four men and Tanvi inside the empty space. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the concrete floor and the scarred workbench in the center. Tanvi’s scooter sat abandoned near the entrance, its engine still warm from the breakdown that had stranded her here after dark.

Ashok was the first to grab her. His thick fingers dug into her upper arms as he dragged her backward. She twisted hard, heels scraping the floor.