She spent her evenings with Margaret, cooking and sharing stories.
She spent weekends with Jax and the rest of the Vipers, his motorcycle club, which was mostly made up of veterans.
They taught her how to change the oil in a car.
They helped her with her homework.
They became the fathers, uncles, and brothers she never had.
One day, Jax took her to the gas station where she used to work.
Her old boss saw them pull up.
He looked nervous.
“I quit,” Cassie said, before he could say a word.
“You’re not quitting,” Jax said, stepping forward.
“You’re being compensated for all the unpaid overtime he conveniently forgot to log.”
He handed the man a piece of paper, prepared by the cop, Jax’s brother Mark.
The man’s face went pale.
He wrote a check without another word.
It was a small victory, but it felt huge.
It was justice.
Cassie excelled in her final months of school.
Without the weight of her home life crushing her, she could finally breathe.
She could finally focus.
Her grades shot up.
She applied to the state university to study social work, inspired by Mrs. Ramona.
One afternoon, Brittany found her in the library.
She didn’t look smug or mean.
She just looked tired.
“I heard you got a scholarship,” Brittany said.
Cassie nodded, bracing for a sarcastic comment.
