"Give us your wallet and phone, and you won't get hurt."
Amara tilted her head as if confused. "I don't have a wallet, just bus fare."
"Then give us that," Logan demanded, stepping closer.
"I need it to get home," Amara replied calmly.
"That's not our problem," Chase said, reaching toward her arm.
What happened next occurred so quickly that none of the boys had time to react. As Chase's hand approached Amara's sleeve, she pivoted smoothly, capturing his wrist and using his own momentum to flip him over her hip. He landed hard on his back, the impact knocking the wind from his lungs.
Logan rushed forward, only to be met with a precise strike to his solar plexus that left him doubled over, gasping for air.
Brent, witnessing his friends' swift defeat, backed away with his hands raised. "I don't want any trouble," he stammered.
"Then you shouldn't have followed me," Amara replied, her voice deadly calm.
Logan struggled to his feet, pulling Chase up with him. "This isn't over," Chase wheezed, though the threat sounded hollow coming from someone who could barely stand.
"Actually, it is," Amara said. "And Chase? Your cologne gives you away. Might want to consider something less distinctive for your next mugging."
The boys froze at the mention of Chase's name.
"That's right," Amara continued. "I know exactly who you are, all three of you. And now you know something about me, too."
They backed away, then turned and ran, Chase limping slightly from his hard landing. Amara resumed her walk to the bus stop, her composure unshaken.
When her phone rang, she answered it with her usual calm. "Hey, Yasmin."