The mechanics weren’t merely waiting for her to make a mistake; they were trying to understand how such an ordinary question could have changed the direction of the entire diagnosis.
Ace stepped closer to the motorcycle.
“Tell me what you need.”
Emma looked toward the tools spread across the bench.
“Just a flashlight for now.”
The mechanic standing nearest the bench reached for one.
He hesitated before handing it over.
“You aren’t planning to take the whole bike apart, are you?”
Emma shook her head.
“Because we’ve already had most of it apart.”
She accepted the flashlight and switched it on.
“I want to look before I touch anything.”
Ace watched the narrow beam move along the motorcycle’s frame.
The girl leaned slightly, angling the light into the space beneath the seat where the wiring harness passed between several components.
A wiring harness wasn’t a single wire.
It was a group of wires protected and routed together, carrying electrical power and signals to different parts of the motorcycle.
Most of it was hidden.
Some sections disappeared beneath protective coverings.
Other sections connected to individual components through small plastic plugs designed to keep dirt and moisture away from the electrical contacts inside.
Emma followed the harness slowly.
She wasn’t looking for a dramatic piece of damage.
There was no reason to expect smoke, melted insulation, or a wire hanging loose.
A completely broken wire would usually be easier to identify.
What bothered her was the possibility of something that looked normal until a particular condition changed.
She moved the flashlight a few inches.
Ace leaned closer.
“See something?”
One of the mechanics approached from the opposite side.
“Which connector are you looking at?”
Emma shifted the light so he could see.
“We checked that area.”