As the sky began to lighten, I noticed the low rumble outside.
The parking lot was packed with nearly fifteen hundred motorcycles.
It was a scene that would be hard to forget.
And then he showed up.
A sharply dressed man, his expensive watch catching the dim light.
His presence was unsettling, his eyes cold and calculating.
“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the early morning air.
His arrival stirred something deep inside me, memories I had long buried.
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