I Found a Biker Crying Behind a Dumpster Holding a Photo of a Little Girl

“Where is he now?” I asked.

The biker didn’t answer.

He opened his hand and let the photo drop onto his lap.

Then he pulled out a phone. An old flip phone. He flipped it open, scrolled, and held it out to me.

The screen showed a voicemail. Time-stamped 11:47 a.m.

The name on the screen said “DAVID.”

“I got the call this morning,” the biker said. “His wife.continue reading …