I just buried my baby girl and this biker stood there in rain for 3 hours and I had no idea who he was. – Story Home
The sky over the cemetery was a bruised purple, weeping a relentless, cold rain that seemed to mirror the collective grief of the small town. We were there to bury Emma, my seven-year-old daughter—a girl who had been the very heartbeat of our home. The church had been a sea of faces: teachers, classmates, and…