Evan knelt to gather his papers, brushing gravel dust off a resume draft with slow, embarrassed movements. One page fluttered away in the breeze and landed near a puddle, soaking through before he could reach it. That was when the Harley’s engine rolled into the lot. It wasn’t loud in an aggressive way; it was controlled, steady, deliberate.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️