The biker remained by her side until the ambulance arrived.
Even as the medics worked, he stood back, watching with a kind of silent intensity.
When the woman was taken away, the officers barely acknowledged the biker’s involvement.
It was like his presence didn’t matter—or worse, that acknowledging it would unravel something no one wanted to face.
In the days since, the story has wound tighter around the edges.
First, I heard whispers that the woman might’ve been in trouble before collapsing, something no one wanted to talk about openly.
Then, the biker showed up at the diner one evening, quiet but insistent on paying for her hospital bills.
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