Then came the sound that froze the street—the rumble of engines. Within minutes, forty-seven bikers filled the block, leather vests glinting in the sun. Inside the courtroom, the father’s smug grin disappeared as those bikers took their seats behind the girl. When the bailiff protested, Big Mike folded his arms and said: “We’re her uncles.” The judge—famous for siding with officers—looked shaken. And when the ruling came down, Maya was safe.
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