We Thought It Was Just Another Night on the Road — Until a Little Boy the Unthinkable

We were just a bunch of road-weary bikers looking for hot coffee and pie when he walked up to our table—a boy, maybe nine years old, with ragged shoes and eyes that seemed older than his years. At first, I thought he was going to ask for spare change or maybe a bite to eat. Instead, he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper, and asked us to do something so unthinkable that the entire diner went silent. He wanted us to…

It was the kind of roadside diner you only find in small towns—a flickering neon sign, cracked vinyl booths, and a waitress who called everyone “hon.” Our group of bikers had been on the road for hours, leather jackets still carrying the chill of the night air, when we walked in for some hot coffee and pie. We weren’t expecting much more than a quick meal. But what happened that night is something none of us will ever forget.

We’d just settled into a corner table, laughing about nothing in particular, when a boy—no more than eight or nine—approached us. He had messy hair, shoes that looked a size too small, and a seriousness in his eyes that didn’t belong to a child. He stood there for a moment, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, before blurting out words that froze every single one of us in place.

“Can you kill my stepdad for me?”