The Biker Who Became Her Angel

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“It’s okay,” she said. Her voice was so calm. Too calm for a seven-year-old. “I know I’m dying. Everyone thinks I don’t understand but I do. I heard them say the cancer is everywhere now. They said maybe six months. Maybe less.”
I set the book down. “Amara, I’m so sorry.”
She looked at me with those huge eyes. “Mr. Mike, can I ask you something?”
“Anything, honey.”
She looked at me with those huge eyes. “Mr. Mike, can I ask you something?”
“Anything, honey.”
“Will you be my daddy… until I die?”
The room went still. Even the monitors seemed to hush. I felt every one of my fifty-eight years settle on my shoulders like lead.

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