The word “FAILED” was stamped in brutal, red ink. For the third time. Maya stared at the paper, the letters blurring as hot tears welled in her eyes. The examiner’s voice was a distant, clinical murmur. “Hesitation at the roundabout, incorrect gear change on the hill start…”She didn’t need to hear it. She knew the script by heart. The first failure was for parallel parking, the second for stalling twice. This third one felt the most crushing because she had been so close. She could still feel the phantom jerk of the car as she’d misjudged the clutch on the