Drew stared at them from his wheelchair, wearing his honorary vest.
Wade introduced each rider, then invited Drew to choose his favorite motorcycle.
He picked a dark blue one with polished chrome.
“That one’s yours?” he asked Wade.
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“Sure is.”
“Good choice.”
“Thank you. I was hoping you’d approve.”
Everyone laughed.
Then Wade presented Drew with a small patch bearing the club’s emblem.
The bikers stood around his wheelchair for a group photograph.
I thought the ceremony was finished.
But Drew looked toward Dr. Harris.
“Hey, Doc?”
“Yeah, champ?”
“There’s something else.”
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Wade handed my son the older vest.
Dr. Harris immediately recognized it.
“Drew…”
“You told me bikers don’t leave their brothers behind,” Drew said.
“That’s right.”
“Then why did you leave yours?”
Nobody spoke.
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Dr. Harris crouched beside the wheelchair.
“It’s not that simple, buddy.”
“I know.”
Drew looked at the vest.
“But you still remember your brother, right?”
