I thought he was joking.
Fast forward to that sidewalk outside the pharmacy. My laces untied, my body tired, and a leather-vested stranger kneeling to help me.
When he finished, he offered me a ride. “We’re headed somewhere special.”
I hesitated, but he chuckled. “Don’t worry. We’ve got a sidecar.”
Helmet on, I climbed in. The wind rushed my cheeks, and I laughed—really laughed—for the first time in years.
We pulled up to a diner where a dozen more vests waited, patches gleaming: The Guardians. They greeted me like family, sliding menus in front of me like I was royalty.
