Anthony Miller

She was seven, sick, alone, and barefoot when she asked me, a 58-year-old biker who read to kids at the hospital, “Will you be my dad until I die?” I’d lost a daughter years ago. I said yes. Love did what medicine couldn’t—her tumors shrank, she healed, and she walked out holding my hand. She’s fifteen now. She calls me Dad. And our story still saves others.