ADVERTISEMENT
“Mama! Look! Mr. Mike came!”
Not just Mike. Fifteen riders followed behind him, dressed in leather and denim, each one bringing warmth and kindness with them. They came with gifts: a miniature motorcycle, a tiny vest with patches just like theirs, and a certificate welcoming Liam as an honorary member of their club.
Liam’s entire face lit up. “Really?”
I hesitated for only a moment. Joy mattered more than anything else. “Go ahead,” I whispered.
“Mama, I was flying!”
That was the last time I saw him with that kind of sparkle—peaceful, content, wrapped in the pure joy those riders had given him. A few days later, he slipped away quietly at home, in his own bed, with his little dog curled beside him.