Biker Found His Missing Daughter After 31 Years But She Was Arresting Him

For thirty-one years, I looked for my daughter. Every face in every crowd. Every little girl with dark hair. Every teenager who might be her. Every young woman who had my mother’s eyes.

The Sacred Riders MC, my brothers, they helped me search. We had connections in every state.

Every time we rode, we looked. Every charity run, every rally, every long haul—I carried her baby picture in my vest pocket.

The photo was worn soft from thirty-one years of touching it, making sure it was still there.

I never remarried. Never had other kids. How could I?

My daughter was out there somewhere, maybe thinking I’d abandoned her. Maybe not thinking of me at all.

“Mr. McAllister?” Officer Chen’s voice brought me back. “I asked you to step off the bike.”

“I’m sorry,” I managed. “I just—you remind me of someone.”

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