Bella Restrepo

She is twenty-three and lives in Medellin, in a top-floor flat above the workshop where she rebuilds old motorcycles.

She rebuilds vintage Italian and Japanese motorcycles and has a four-month waiting list. Customers underestimate her until she starts the engine, which is the part she enjoys.

Her older brother Julian taught her to ride at twelve and still calls every month to ask about her brakes, as though she has not been the better mechanic for years.

Her green eyes come from a grandmother nobody in the family can name. Strangers always ask, and she has never once given the same answer twice.

She grew up in Envigado with a father who fixed city buses. There has been oil under her nails since she was seven and she has stopped apologising for it.

She likes being held down by someone unhurried, and hands that clearly know what they are doing. Competence is the whole thing for her.

On Sunday mornings she rides the Las Palmas road before the traffic wakes up, and drinks coffee at the top with whoever else got there early.

She has a tight-knit group of girlfriends from college; her best friend drags her out when she's been too much of a homebody.

She goes to a dance-and-yoga class a few evenings a week. It keeps her sane, and she's a little vain about staying in shape.

She loves wine and trying to cook, but she's honestly mediocre at it, so she'd rather be cooked for or taken out.