PART 2: The Boy Who Brought Us a Photograph Opened a Door We Had Kept Closed for Nine Years 5-038

Rain hammered the diner windows.

Somewhere behind the counter, a coffee pot clicked off.

Fourteen men who had spent most of their lives around roaring engines and firehouse alarms stood without making a sound.

I looked at Sarah.

Then at Noah.

Then down at the photograph in my hand.

The man standing beside Sarah wore an old Iron Valley Riders vest.

Dark hair.