“They said Lucas probably wandered away.”

Shade frowned.

“He's ten.”

“He doesn't wander.”

Gabe's voice became stronger.

“He wouldn't leave without me.”

Nobody spoke.

Gabe continued:

“We're foster kids.”

Jerome nodded slowly.

Gabe looked at the floor.

“People don't listen to us.”

That sentence hit the room harder than anything else he had said.

Jerome stood.

“That's going to change.”

Within minutes, the relaxed Saturday morning disappeared.

Phones came out.

Maps opened.

The bikers started calling people.

Jerome pointed toward the parking lot.

“Diesel, take North County.”

“Got it.”

“Raven, contact the women's riding groups.”

Raven nodded.

“Shade, you're with me.”

He looked at Gabe.

“Get this drawing photographed.”

A biker immediately took several pictures.

Another scanned it.

Raven began distributing it through local community groups and missing-child networks.