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@Moazam Tanveer

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Jasmine Crockett was driving home after a long day, the kind where the world feels heavy but you keep moving anyway. She wasn’t in a rush. Her playlist hummed low through the car speakers, her seatbelt clipped, her focus steady. It was a quiet street just outside the city—trees lining the sidewalk, a few pedestrians here and there, and barely any traffic. Then the lights flashed behind her. Red and blue, flickering like a warning sign in the rearview mirror. She didn’t panic. She wasn’t speeding. She hadn’t run a light. So she pulled over calmly, thinking it was probably a mistake