Ethan had died because someone wanted him silent.
And there was one final piece of evidence.
A recording.
Ethan's voice.
Recorded the night before the crash.
Roman listened alone.
His brother laughed softly.
"Roman, if you're listening to this, you're probably blaming yourself again."
Roman closed his eyes.
Ethan continued.
"Stop doing that."
A pause.
"You always think protecting someone means taking all the blame when something goes wrong."
Roman's eyes filled with tears.
"That's not what being a brother means."
"It means staying."
"It means helping."
"And when you can't save someone..."
Ethan laughed.
"...you keep living anyway."
The recording ended.
Roman sat alone in the dark workshop.
Then someone knocked on the door.
Three times.
Roman opened it.
Leo stood outside.
He was holding Sophie’s hospital bag.
"She's going home."
Roman smiled.
"Good."
Leo looked at the helmet sitting on the workbench.
"You got it back."
Roman nodded.
Leo smiled.
"You gonna keep it?"
Roman looked at the old helmet.
For seven years, he had treated it like a grave.
Now he understood it wasn't.
It was a reminder.
He picked it up.
Then placed it on the shelf beside Ethan's photograph.
"I think it's time."
"Time for what?"
Roman looked toward his motorcycle.
"To stop living like he's still gone."
Months later, Sophie was healthy.
Leo returned to school.
Roman's workshop became busier than ever.
But something had changed.
The old helmet no longer sat locked away.
It was displayed openly on a shelf.
Beside it was a photograph of Ethan.
And beneath the photograph was a handwritten sentence:
Ride for the people who can't.
Every Friday night, Roman began taking food to the city's shelters.
Leo came with him.
Sometimes Sophie came too.
The boy who had once stolen Roman's motorcycle now sat behind him on it, holding a box of food.
One evening, Leo asked,
"Do you still think I'm a thief?"
Roman smiled.
"Absolutely."
Leo laughed.
"Seriously?"
Roman started the engine.
"You stole the most expensive thing I own."
Leo looked confused.
"The motorcycle?"
Roman shook his head.
"My trust."
Leo smiled.
The motorcycle disappeared into the city.
And for the first time in seven years, Roman wasn't riding away from his brother's memory.
He was carrying it with him.