PART 3: “That Name Is Dead.”
The anger was still there, but now it was mixed with something far heavier.
“…Who told you that, kid?”
The young woman slipped a hand into her jacket pocket.
Every eye in the room followed the movement.
For a moment, it seemed no one dared to breathe.
When she finally spoke again, her voice was softer.
Almost breaking.
“My father…”
She paused.
“…before they took him away.”
The words landed harder than anyone expected.
A glass nearly slipped from someone’s hand.
Whispers spread quietly through the restaurant.
“They took him away?”
“What does she mean?”
The biker leader stared at her, his expression slowly changing.
The anger faded.
Recognition took its place.
For the first time since she walked into the restaurant, it seemed he wasn’t looking at a stranger anymore.
He was looking at someone connected to a past he had spent years trying to leave behind.
And suddenly, everyone in the room realized the story they thought had ended long ago was only beginning.
