One of the boys from the restaurant, his face pale and streaked with tears, was pounding on the glass.

Stella immediately rolled down the window, the cool night air rushing in. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice soft yet urgent, already unbuckling her seatbelt.

The boy's sobs were racking his small frame. "Help me!" he choked out, his voice trembling.

Stella frowned, confusion clouding her concern. "Help you with what?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine bewilderment.

They ...