The waitress saw the biker and dropped her tray. Just a second earlier, she had been calmly walking between the tables of an expensive roadside restaurant, serving drinks to the guests, but the moment the entrance door opened, her expression changed. Standing in the doorway was a tall man with a gray beard, wearing a black leather jacket, and through the large window behind him, a heavy black motorcycle could be seen. The young woman seemed to stop breathing. The tray slipped from her hands, the glasses crashed onto the floor, and everyone in the restaurant turned around. The biker froze too. For several seconds, he simply stared at her, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. The waitress slowly stepped back and whispered: “No… this can’t be.” But even stranger was the fact that, at one of the far tables, a man in an expensive suit suddenly stood up the moment he saw the biker enter.
— Do you know him? — another waitress asked, trying to help pick up the broken glass. But the young woman didn’t even hear the question. The biker was already walking straight toward her. The man in the suit quickly stepped between them and said coldly, “You’re not welcome here.” The biker stopped and looked at him as if they had met before. Then he turned his gaze back to the young woman and quietly asked: “He still hasn’t told you?” The waitress frowned. “Told me what?” The man in the suit immediately interrupted: “Don’t listen to him. He only came here to cause trouble.” But the biker said nothing. He slowly unzipped his jacket and pulled out an old yellowed envelope. When the man in the suit saw it, he visibly turned pale.
The biker placed the envelope on the nearest table. On the front was the waitress’s name — written in the same kind of handwriting used on old letters. The young woman cautiously ran her finger across the paper and asked, “Where did you get this?” The biker did not answer immediately. “I kept it longer than I should have.” The man in the suit suddenly grabbed for the envelope, but the young woman managed to take it first. “Why are you so afraid of me opening it?” she asked. He looked into her eyes and quietly said: “Because after this, you’ll never look at your family the same way again.” A whisper spread through the restaurant. No one was eating or talking anymore. Everyone was watching only the three people standing near the broken glasses.
The waitress started opening the envelope, but the biker suddenly stopped her. “Before you read it, ask him one question.” The young woman looked at the man in the suit. “What question?” The biker replied: “Ask him where he was the night your father disappeared.” The young woman froze. The man in the suit turned even paler. “Enough,” he said sharply. But now there was no stopping it. The waitress turned to him. “You told me you knew nothing about that night.” The man looked away. The biker quietly added: “He knows more than you think.” The young woman tightened her grip on the envelope. Her eyes filled with tears. “Why did you come now?” she asked the biker. He looked at her and answered: “Because this morning I was told that the man you all believed was dead may still be alive.”
The young woman seemed to lose the ability to speak. She slowly pulled a folded sheet of paper from the envelope, but the man in the suit suddenly grabbed her wrist. “Don’t read that here.” The waitress pulled her hand away. “Why?” The biker watched him in silence, and somehow that silence was more frightening than any words. On the paper was an old date, the address of some motel, and a photograph attached with a paperclip. The young woman had barely begun to unfold the picture when she noticed a familiar face in the corner. She looked up at the man in the suit and whispered: “You said you had never met him… then why are you together in this photograph?” Absolute silence filled the restaurant. The biker slowly stepped back and said, “Now ask him why your name is written on the back.” The young woman began turning the photograph over — and at that moment, the man in the suit realized that the secret he had hidden for so many years was about to stop being a secret.
