53 bikers showed up in suits when school said fatherless girls could not attend the daddy-daughter dance

My daughter Sita was eight when everything happened. Her father left before she was born and never looked back. No visits, no birthday cards, no proof he remembered she existed. For eight years, I did everything I could to be her entire world. But even the strongest mother can’t fill every empty space. One afternoon she came home with a pink flyer gripped in her small hands, eyes shining. “Mommy, can I go to the Daddy-Daughter Dance? All my friends are going with their daddies.” My heart twisted. I took the flyer, hoping there was some loophole—maybe moms could attend,…

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