"I was behind him."
"What did you see?"
Pete looked at Nathan.
"I saw the truck."
"I heard Ryan on the radio."
"Truck! Go right!"
Pete swallowed.
"Then I saw him accelerate."
"He didn't lose control?"
"No."
"He wasn't trying to escape?"
"No."
Pete's eyes filled with tears.
"He knew exactly what he was doing."
Nathan leaned forward.
"Then why wasn't that in the report?"
Pete looked away.
"Because nobody wanted to talk about it."
"Why?"
"Because we were alive."
The words hung between them.
Pete wiped his face.
"Ryan died so I could keep breathing."
He shook his head.
"I couldn't stand in front of everyone and say that."
"So I kept quiet."
Nathan stared at him.
"His daughter has been tying ribbons to motorcycles."
Pete's face changed.
"She does what?"
"Every time she sees our patches."
Pete covered his mouth.
"She wants someone to remember her father."
Pete began to cry.
Nathan didn't interrupt him.
Some grief had to be allowed to exist before it could be healed.
A Promise
Nine days later, the brotherhood would gather in Sturgis.
Two hundred and fifty riders.
Nathan made a decision.
"I'm going to tell them."
Pete looked up.
"Tell them what?"
"The truth."
Nathan stood.
"And I'm bringing Ellie."
Pete stared at him.
"Does Morrison know?"
"Not yet."
"You know Frank. He won't like surprises."
Nathan smiled faintly.
"Then I'll give him a choice."
"What choice?"
"Listen to the truth..."
Nathan picked up Ryan's framed photograph.
"...or explain why he doesn't want to hear it."
Pete slowly handed him the photograph.
"He should be there."
Nathan nodded.
"He will be."
The Road to Sturgis
The journey west took two days.
Nathan rode at the front.
Danny rode beside him.
Behind them, Margaret drove an SUV with Ellie in the back seat.
For miles, Ellie watched the landscape through the window.
Cornfields became open plains.
The sky widened.
The mountains appeared in the distance.
Margaret remained nervous.
"I don't know if this is good for her," she admitted.
Nathan understood.
"Neither do I."
"She has finally started smiling again."
Nathan looked toward the road.
"But she never stopped looking for someone to remember her father."
Margaret was silent.
Nathan continued.
"I can't change what happened two years ago."
"But maybe we can change what happens next."
Margaret looked at him.
"If she gets overwhelmed, we leave."
"Agreed."
She nodded.
"No arguments."
"No arguments."
Two Hundred and Fifty Brothers
Sturgis was loud.
Engines thundered.
Music rolled across the rally grounds.
Hundreds of motorcycles filled the parking areas.
But inside the main pavilion, the noise eventually faded.
Two hundred and fifty riders took their seats.
Frank Morrison stood at the front.
He was the president of the brotherhood and a man who rarely showed emotion.
He looked toward Nathan.