School Called Police On Biker Whom My Daughter Was Feeding Her Lunch Every Day

I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to feel. Part of me was angry that my daughter had been secretly meeting a stranger for weeks. Part of me was terrified of what could have happened.

But mostly, I was heartbroken. For this old man who’d lost everything. For my daughter who’d somehow known he needed help. For Emma, who never got to grow up.

I sat down on the curb next to them. “Mr. Thomas, I’m so sorry about Emma. I’m so sorry about all of it.”

“You don’t need to apologize—”

“And I’m sorry people treated you like a criminal. That they assumed the worst because of how you look.” I took a deep breath. “Lily should have told me what she was doing. But I’m proud of her for being kind. For seeing someone in pain and trying to help.”

Lily beamed. “Does that mean I can still have lunch with Mr. Thomas?”

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