The woman covered her mouth as the biker said it again.

“Our mother.”

The man in the suit looked at the bikers, then at her, trying to understand why she wasn’t alone anymore.

“She owes me,” he said coldly.

The big biker’s jaw tightened.

“She said you killed her son.”

The diner went quiet.

The woman shook her head through tears.

“My boy tried to stop him from hurting me. He was only twenty.”

The biker’s face changed.

Slowly, he reached into his leather vest and pulled out an old photo.

His hands were suddenly not so steady.

“Was this him?”

The woman looked at the photo.

Her knees almost gave out.

It was her son.

Standing beside the same biker years ago, smiling outside a motorcycle garage.

The biker’s voice broke.

“He saved my life once. Took a knife meant for me.”

The woman stared at him.

“You knew my Daniel?”

The biker nodded, eyes wet now.

“He made me promise if anything ever happened to him, I’d look after his mom.”

The man in the suit stepped back.

The biker looked at him with cold fury.

“I guess today’s the day.”

The woman started crying harder, not from fear this time, but from something almost like relief.

The biker gently put a hand on her shoulder.

“You didn’t ask strangers to pretend,” he whispered. “You found the sons he left behind.”