Andrés Herrera used the same restless hands that had kept him up all night to lock his flat door at 6:37 AM. His eyes were puffy, his nerves were shot, and the only thing preventing his life from ending was a USB drive with a film that could clear his name inside his cheap briefcase. He had to get to the downtown courts in less than an hour. He was done after one error and one delay.
After three tries, his dilapidated white automobile sputtered to life, the engine trembling as if it wanted to give up on him just as the rest of the world did. Out of habit, he crossed himself and drove into the morning traffic, negotiating the rush-hour bottleneck with the desperation of a man in a hurry.
He spotted her on a side street close to the industrial area: a woman standing next to a gray automobile with the spare tire on the ground and the trunk open. She waved at her dead phone as though shouting at it would restore the signal, and she appeared both angry and helpless at the same time. Before his mind could react, Andrés’s foot struck the brake. Whether it was late or not, the want to assist outweighed the dread he was experiencing.
His window was rolled down. “Do you require assistance?”
She pivoted. Cool eyes concealing frustration, dark hair pushed back, and business attire. Instead of a flat tire before dawn, she appeared to be someone who used to dominate things. “Yes, please. I’m running late for a crucial appointment.
An old line. After parking, Andrés grabbed his tools and jack and started working. Silent and vigilant, as though learning him by heart, she kept a watchful eye on him.
“Are you also in a hurry?” she inquired.
“Very,” he answered, not raising his gaze.
“I have a new job,” she declared. “Dreadful first day.”
“Perhaps the day gets better,” Andrés whispered as he tightened the final lug nut.
The tire was fixed ten minutes later. She wanted to know his name. He informed her. After giving him an unexpectedly sincere thank you, she drove out into traffic. The USB disk in his briefcase had fallen into the passenger seat of Andrés’s automobile without her noticing.
Sweating through his shirt, he arrived at the courthouse at 7:42. The Fifth Civil Court was threatening. He spotted the people who had been destroying his life for weeks inside Courtroom 2B: lawyer Salgado, who was as arrogant as ever, and Paula Aguilar, the supervisor who had vowed to steal a business laptop that had private information.
He then noticed the judge.
The roadside woman, the same one.
When their gazes locked, she froze for a split second. Not surprise, but acknowledgment.
His name was called by the clerk. With his heart racing, he took a step forward. The judge quickly regained her composure and began the hearing in a firm yet formal tone. Salgado performed as usual, accusing Andrés of wrongdoing, deception, and stealing. Paula sat next to him, her eyes frigid and her chin up.
The judge asked, “How do you plead, Mr. Herrera?”
He said, “I’m innocent.” Additionally, I have video evidence that Paula stole the laptop. A USB disk contains the proof.
He took out his briefcase.
Nothing.
His stomach fell. He ripped through the connections, folders, and pockets, but found nothing. His evidence had disappeared. Salgado grinned. Paula folded her arms.
The judge bent over. “Mr. Herrera, your claim is baseless without proof.”
She raised a hand as he attempted to speak. “The court will adjourn. Locate your proof.
He was shaken when he exited the courtroom. As he moved, the hallway became blurry, reliving the morning step by step until it struck him like a fist.
The tire is flat. Her vehicle. On her passenger seat, his briefcase was open.
He convinced a guard that he had left something important in a judge’s car, ran through the building, and pleaded with security to let him into the judges’ parking area. He followed them to a gray Mazda. His heart pounded. He reached behind the seat after opening the passenger door. He touched plastic with his fingers.
The USB drive.
He gave it to the technician back in the courtroom. The security camera showed Paula coming into the office after hours with nothing. Leaving with a big bag a few minutes later. The timestamp precisely corresponds to the night the equipment vanished.
Quiet.
Salgado made stuttering protests. He was immediately shut down by the judge.
“This video will be authenticated,” she stated. “This hearing is still ongoing.”
The meeting ended. At last, Andrés took a breath.
Salgado and Paula cornered him outside the courthouse as he was leaving. Salgado had a manila envelope with him.
“Twenty thousand pesos,” he murmured. “You enter a guilty plea to a lesser charge tomorrow. No prison. The case is closed.
Take it,” Paula said. Your employment has already been lost. Keep your future intact as well.
Andrés appeared to be defeated. Then he said, “Okay. I agree.
They were unaware that every statement had been recorded by the tiny gadget in his jacket pocket.
He listened to the recording over and again throughout the night, his tiredness turning into determination. He was prepared by morning.
Salgado declared with pride in court that Andrés had consented to enter a guilty plea. The judge scowled. Andrés moved forward.
“Your Honor, I have one more piece of evidence before I make any pleas.”
Salgado went into a panic.
It was approved by the judge.
The sound began to play.
each and every sentence. Each bribe. each and every danger.
The courtroom went silent.
The judge’s face went as cold as stone when it was over. “Your attempted bribery and obstruction of justice are criminal charges, Attorney Salgado and Ms. Aguilar. Arrest them, officers.
As the guards entered, the room exploded. Paula didn’t fight back. Until he was pulled out in handcuffs, Salgado yelled.
The judge then looked at Andrés.
“You are totally cleared by this court. You will be compensated and given a formal apology.
Andrés released a breath that he had been holding for several months.
The judge silently walked over to him as the courtroom cleared out.
She remarked, “You left your USB drive in my car.” “If you hadn’t assisted me this morning… None of this would have been discovered.
He declared, “That tire saved my life.”
“That’s how fate operates sometimes,” she said.
After six months, Andrés was able to find employment once more and put the ordeal behind him. He was able to start over thanks to the settlement. On a calm Friday afternoon, Elena Morales, the judge, entered the tiny café by the courthouse where she had previously visited him after completing a challenging case out of town.
Andrés was reading with a half-full cup of coffee.
She smiled slightly as she walked over. “Is this seat reserved?”
Startled but warm, he looked up. “No longer.”
Your day, your destiny, your entire damn life may all change with a flat tire.