Then, right outside her house. She shuffled to the window, heart pounding. Her jaw dropped. Outside, lining the entire street, were dozens of motorcycles, gleaming, loud, and powerful. At least 50 riders, all wearing leather jackets, engines idling like a symphony of steel.
At the front stood the young biker from the night before, the one she had given her last $10 to.
He removed his helmet and smiled up at her window. “Morning, Miss Martha. I told you I’d come back.”
She stepped outside slowly, her eyes wide. “Oh my goodness, what is all this?”
The biker grinned. “I told the guys what you did for me. How you gave your last 10 bucks to a stranger without expecting anything back.”
He looked around at the sea of bikers behind him. “These men and women here, they’re my family. And when we heard your story, we knew we had to do something.”
Martha covered her mouth as a tear escaped. Then one of the bikers, a woman with bright red hair, stepped forward and handed Martha a set of keys.
Confused, she looked down. “What’s this?”
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