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

“Daddy didn’t mean it, sweetheart. Daddy tried.”

I asked if she was his daughter. My voice came out small.

He finally turned his head. His eyes were the most broken thing I have ever seen.

“No,” he said. “She wasn’t my daughter.”

He held the photo up to me with shaking hands. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

“I’m the man who killed her.”

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