Old biker found 6-year-old girl hiding in the restaurant’s bathroom at midnight, bruised and terrified, begging him not to tell her stepfather where she was.
“Emma.” She stepped out, limping. “I ran away. Three miles. My feet hurt.”
“Working. She’s a nurse. Night shifts.” Emma started crying harder. “She doesn’t know. He’s careful. He’s smart. Everyone thinks he’s nice.”
That’s when Big Mike noticed something that made his hands clench into fists. Bruises on her neck. Defensive scratches on her small hands. And worse – the way she kept pulling down her pajama shirt, like she was trying to cover something.