Sadie started calling him at random times, when she got a good grade on a test, when she saw a dog that looked like a wolf, when she couldn’t sleep and needed someone to tell her a story.
Garrett found himself telling her about his own childhood, the parts that weren’t too dark.
About learning to ride a bike on streets not unlike hers, about his mother’s chocolate chip cookies, about his brother Jimmy’s terrible jokes.
He told her about Jimmy, not everything, not the drinking or fights or the way their father’s anger had shaped them both, but about how Jimmy always believed in the good in people.
How he gave away his lunch to kids who were hungrier.
How he died still believing kindness mattered.
“He sounds like he would have liked me,” Sadie said one night, her voice sleepy through the phone.
“He would have loved you,” Garrett said.
The club continued its transformation.
The Saturday mechanic sessions for kids became so popular Gears had to set up a waiting list.
Boulder’s story time at the elementary school expanded to twice a week.
Shadow’s charitable initiatives grew to include winter coat drives and holiday food baskets.
The Oakland chapter was still everything it had always been, but it was becoming something else, too.
Something that felt like hope.
At the eleventh week, Garrett noticed something wrong.
He was at Rosy’s Diner for their usual Tuesday breakfast when Sadie came in looking troubled.
Not the usual burst of energy. Not the usual bright smile.
She slid into the booth with her eyes downcast.
“What’s wrong?”
Sadie pushed her pancakes around her plate without eating.
“A man came to school yesterday. A parent. He was asking questions about me.”
Garrett felt ice form in his chest.
“What kind of questions?”
“About who picks me up. About my family. About…”
She hesitated.
“About you.”
“What did he look like?”
“Fancy clothes. Gray hair. Drove a silver car.”
Sadie finally looked up, and there was fear in her eyes, fear that hadn’t been there since their first meeting.
“He told some of the other parents you were dangerous. That you were trying to hurt me. Mrs. Patterson made him leave, but I saw the way people looked at me after.”
Preston Ashworth.
The name surfaced in Garrett’s mind like a warning.
“Sadie, listen to me. Whatever that man said, it’s not true. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
But her voice wavered.
“It’s just… why would he say those things? Why would he try to make people scared of you? You’ve never done anything wrong.”
Garrett wanted to explain.
He wanted to tell her about prejudices that followed men like him, about fear that made people see monsters where there were only men.
But she was eight years old.
She shouldn’t have to understand these things.
“Some people judge others without knowing them,” he said carefully. “They see my jacket, my bike, my tattoos, and decide I must be bad.”
“They don’t take the time to look deeper.”
“That’s stupid.”
“It is. But it happens.”
Sadie’s jaw set with determination.
“If he comes back, I’m going to tell him he’s wrong. I’m going to tell everyone he’s wrong.”
“You’re my friend, and you’re good, and I don’t care what anyone says.”
“Sadie, no.”
She cut him off, fierce in a way he had never seen before.
“You told me Uncle Danny was right, that you can’t judge people by how they look. You told me I was brave for giving you that dollar.”
“Well, now it’s my turn to be brave for you.”
The words hit Garrett like a physical force.