“First basket!” the emcee announced, breaking through my thoughts. “Number two-one-seven!” A loud cheer erupted from somewhere across the room.
“Three-four-two!” Another person stood up to collect their prize, and the crowd clapped and laughed with each winner announced. Some baskets were huge, wrapped in crinkling plastic, while others were smaller but still decorated with ribbons and bows. After each number, I glanced down at my tickets. None matched yet, but that was okay. I took another sip of my drink and tried to stay hopeful.
“And next up,” the emcee said, shaking the bucket dramatically, “we’ve got the Barbie Dream House bundle!”
My head lifted immediately. That one! The youngest niece had been so excited about that basket earlier. Before I could think twice about it, I felt small feet running toward me.
“Miss Emma!”
I turned just in time to see her skidding to a stop beside my chair, her dark curls bouncing around her face, cheeks flushed pink with excitement.
“Miss Emma,” she said breathlessly, grabbing my chair, “will you sit with me? My basket’s next!”
My heart melted. “Of course I will!”
Her face lit up with joy, and she grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the front. “Come on!”
I barely had time to stand before she was dragging me through the crowd, and as we walked, I felt that strange sensation again—a feeling of being watched, heavy and focused. But I didn’t turn around; I had a feeling I knew who it was.
We reached the front just as the emcee reached into the bucket again. The little girl squeezed my hand tightly, excitement buzzing between us. The emcee unfolded a ticket. “Barbie Dream House basket goes to… number three-eight-nine!”
For a moment, nothing happened, and then the girl beside me exploded with excitement. “THAT’S ME!” she shouted, jumping up and down, clapping wildly.
“I WON! I WON!”
I crouched down beside her, laughing. “Well, congratulations!”
The volunteer handed her the giant prize, and the Barbie Dream House box was nearly as tall as she was, with a basket of candytied beside it. I looked down at her, smiling. “Do you want help carrying it back?”
“Yes!” she nodded eagerly, grabbing my hand again.
We had barely taken two steps when I awkwardly lifted the Dream House box and grabbed the candy basket tied to it, trying to balance everything in my arms. I quickly realized I had no idea how I was going to carry the rest. Just as I was starting to wobble, the president—the quiet biker—appeared beside me.
“Let me help with that,” he said, reaching out and effortlessly taking the Dream House box from my hands.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling up at him.
As I turned to grab the candy basket, I noticed the two other bikers with him were already helping too, carrying the remaining baskets. They smirked at me, their expressions a mix of amusement.
The president stepped a little closer, his presence somehow calming amidst the chaos. “Name’s Hawk, by the way,” he said, giving me a small nod as we walked back toward the kids.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied, still a bit surprised by his sudden kindness.
Together, we made our way back to Derek’s family table, and the kids erupted with excitement when they saw their baskets arriving. They climbed over chairs and crowded the table, practically vibrating with joy. Derek’s sister laughed in disbelief. “Wait… you guys won?”
Derek looked just as confused. “I didn’t buy tickets for them.”
The kids all started talking at once. “She did!” “Miss Emma gave us tickets!” “We won!”
My cheeks warmed slightly as Derek looked at me, mouthing a thank you. I smiled and nodded, feeling good inside. It hadn’t been a big deal, but judging by their reactions, they hadn’t expected the kids to win anything.
Hawk and the other bikers quietly set the baskets down before stepping away again, blending back into the crowd. No attention, no conversation—just helping out. I returned to my seat as the raffles continued.
“And next up,” the emcee announced, lifting another basket, “we have the baking basket!”
My head lifted immediately. That one! That was the one I really wanted. It had so many cute baking tools, a sourdough starter kit, and a cookbook I’d almost bought last week. I crossed my fingers under the table, hoping.
The emcee reached into the bucket and unfolded the ticket. “Winning number is… three-one-four!”
