He was crying.
Tears disappeared into his gray beard as he stared down at the tiny girl sleeping in his arms.
I didn’t care that he was crying. I didn’t care how many papers he had or how many security guards knew his name.
That was my sister’s baby.
I was ready to fight every man in that hallway.
Then I heard my mother’s footsteps behind me.
She stopped so abruptly that I turned around.
Her eyes locked on the old biker’s face.
The coffee cup slipped from her fingers and shattered across the floor.
“Ray?” she whispered.
The man slowly lifted his head.
Mom pressed one trembling hand over her mouth.
“You promised me,” she said. “Twenty-four years ago, you swore Kayla would never find out you were her father.”
For a moment, the entire hallway seemed to stop breathing.
I looked at my mother.
Then at the man holding my niece.
