The Patch on the Wall
The clubhouse remained silent.
No one dared speak.
Then—
the oldest biker slowly walked to the wall.
He removed a faded leather vest.
Its wolf patch was slashed down the middle.
“He wore this the night he disappeared.”
The little girl stared at it.
Her hands trembling.
Then she unfolded her father’s letter.
A small photograph slipped onto the floor.
The club president picked it up.
His face turned pale.
Standing beside the founder…
was another biker.
Wearing the same torn vest.
“That can’t be…”
he whispered.
The old biker closed his eyes.
“It wasn’t an outsider.”
“It was one of us.”
The little girl looked around the room.
Her voice steady despite the tears.
“My father didn’t send me here for revenge.”
“He sent me here for the truth.”
One by one—
the bikers removed their patches and laid them on the table.
Because before they could honor the Wolves again—
they had to uncover the wolf who had betrayed them.
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