“Had time to plan it.”
Kuda stood and went to the bed.
For a moment, neither man spoke.
Then Kuda punched his shoulder lightly.
Elias winced.
“Still wounded.”
“Still deserved.”
Elias closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
Kuda’s anger rose fast.
Then fell just as quickly.
“Don’t.”
“I left you with a grave.”
“You left me alive.”
Elias opened his eyes.
Kuda’s voice roughened.
“I got to raise my daughter. You didn’t get to raise yours safe. Don’t apologize to me first.”
Elias turned his face toward Mara.
“She sold my vest?”
“She tried.”
A tear slipped from Elias’s eye.
“She’s brave.”
“She’s your daughter.”
“That poor girl.”
Kuda sat on the edge of the bed.
“She’s got all of us now.”
Elias looked at him.
“All?”
Kuda nodded.
“Every last ugly one.”
Elias smiled faintly.
“Then she’ll need therapy.”
“Probably.”
Mara stirred.
Her eyes opened.
“Daddy?”
Elias turned his head.
“Hey, little bird.”
She scrambled from the cot and ran to him.
Careful at the last second, as if afraid to break him.
He wrapped one weak arm around her.
Kuda turned away and wiped his face with the heel of his hand.
No one mentioned it.
Two months later, the riders gathered in the same dusty lot where Mara had first appeared.
This time, she did not run in crying.
She walked beside her father.
Elias was thin, using a cane, moving slowly.
But he was standing.
The lot was full.
Bikes lined in rows.
Families.
Old riders.
New riders.
People who had heard rumors and come anyway.
Kuda stood at the center holding the leather vest.
Cleaned now.
Repaired.
The All Watched Eylian patch remained faded and scarred.
No one wanted it replaced.
Some scars were records.
Elias stopped in front of Kuda.
For a long moment, the two men just looked at each other.
Then Kuda held out the vest.
“Would’ve sold for twenty bucks.”
Mara gasped.
“Really?”
Elias laughed, then coughed.
Kuda winked at her.
“Maybe thirty with the patch.”
She glared.
The crowd laughed softly.
Then Kuda’s face grew serious.
He placed the vest around Elias’s shoulders.
Not as a costume.
Not as a symbol of ownership.
As a return.
The lot went quiet.
Kuda said, “Elias Reed. Brother. Ghost. Father. Pain in my ass. Welcome home.”
Elias’s eyes filled.
He looked at the riders.
“At least half of you got uglier.”
Ghost shouted, “You were dead. Be polite.”
Elias smiled.
Then his gaze lowered to Mara.
She slipped her hand into his.
He squeezed it.
“I came back because she was worth surviving for,” he said.
Kuda nodded.
Then added, “And because you owed me twelve years of gas money.”
The laughter broke the heaviness just enough to let everyone breathe.
Mara did not understand everything at first.
She understood only pieces.
Her father had enemies.
The vest mattered.