“Don’t listen to her!” he shouted. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying!”
But the biker wasn’t looking at him anymore.
He was looking at the girl.
Like the world had stopped making sense.
Slowly, he reached into his jacket.
Not a weapon.
Something worse.
An old broken locket.
Burned edges. Scratched metal. A memory that refused to die.
The girl saw it—
And stepped back.
Her lips trembled.
“Where did you get that…”
The biker’s voice was barely audible.
“She gave it to me.”
The man across the room panicked.
“That was buried! That should be gone!”
The biker finally turned his head toward him.
And smiled.
Not kindly.
Not humanly.
“You made one mistake,” he said quietly.
The room went dead silent.
“You didn’t make sure I stayed buried too.”
The girl looked between them, shaking.
“What is he talking about…?”
The biker knelt down slightly, eye level with her.
His voice softened again.
“Your mother didn’t disappear.”
A pause.
The biggest one of all.
“She was taken.”
The girl’s breath stopped.
The man across the room shouted for security—
But it was already too late.
The biker stood up fully.
The wolf tattoo caught the light like a warning.
And then he said the words that shattered everything:
“And I know exactly who did it.”
