Take care of her. And she will bring you home.
— Dad.”
A single, hot tear broke from my lower eyelid, tracing down through the deep lines of my cheek, splashing onto the cold steel of the fuel tank.
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I didn't wipe it away.
I leaned down, pressing my forehead against the worn leather saddle, feeling the great, unshakeable weight of my father’s presence fill every corner of my soul.
Agent Vance stepped into the trailer, unfastening the heavy nylon transport straps securing the motorcycle's wheels to the floor anchors.
