Day three, I heard whispers about the Hells Angels’ presence mixing with stories about the dwindling safety in our town.
Day four, local shops started offering unusual discounts on supplies.
By day six, word had spread that hundreds planned to gather here, a kind of thank-you that felt both overwhelming and odd.
Now, with a community meeting scheduled in the town hall tomorrow evening—one I don’t want to attend—I’m bracing for whatever fallout this unexpected kindness may bring.
I wonder if I’m about to be caught in the middle of something much bigger, something I didn’t sign up for.
The room in my chest tightens whenever I think about what’s coming, and I’m not certain if it will change my life for better or worse.
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