Bradley replied, voice trembling, “The law is the law. These kids must leave.”
Thomas shook his head. “The law is wrong sometimes. We’re not moving. You want to evict these kids? You’ll have to go through us.”
Sister Margaret, the seventy-year-old nun running the orphanage, stepped onto the porch. “No violence. The children are watching.”
Twenty-three faces pressed against the windows, some crying. The bikers didn’t budge.
Within an hour, families, store owners, and teachers joined, creating a crowd of five hundred. Christmas music played. Hot chocolate was offered to the deputies.
By 11 PM, the bank president, Richard Brennan, arrived. Negotiations began. With pressure from bikers, community members, and media coverage, Brennan agreed to restructure the loan, forgiving half the debt and giving the orphanage six months to fundraise the rest.
The bikers pledged support through rides, raffles, and fundraisers. The children cheered, hugging every leather-clad leg.
