That was a different question.
Ace rested both hands on his hips.
He thought about the motorcycle’s recent maintenance, the work he’d performed, and everything that had seemed ordinary before the problem appeared.
The mechanics watched him.
She didn’t try to fill the silence.
Ace looked toward the Harley again.
“What kind of thing are you asking about?”
Emma glanced at the polished surfaces, then toward the hidden wiring.
“Anything that happened to the whole bike, not just the engine.”
A mechanic made a dismissive gesture.
“There’s no point guessing through every little thing somebody might’ve done to it.”
Emma’s voice remained calm.
“I’m not guessing through everything.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Looking for a change that might explain why the same parts work sometimes and fail other times.”
The mechanic didn’t answer.
Ace noticed the distinction.
Emma wasn’t claiming the motorcycle had been assembled incorrectly.
She wasn’t accusing anyone of damaging it.
She was asking whether some ordinary event had created an unusual condition.
And for the first time, Ace began remembering details that hadn’t seemed important enough to mention.
The motorcycle had looked flawless when the trouble began.
That was one of the reasons Ace had initially struggled to accept that anything serious could be wrong.
He’d checked the obvious things.
He’d listened for unusual sounds.
He’d looked for signs of damage.
Nothing stood out.
When the mechanics began working, their attention naturally went toward the components that controlled the engine.
An engine that stopped unexpectedly often led a technician toward fuel, ignition, and electronic management systems.
But those systems contained dozens of smaller connections.
And a connection could appear perfectly healthy while still failing under a specific condition.