I thought he was doing homework. Gaming with friends. Normal teenage stuff. I had no idea what he’d been posting. What he’d been planning. What he’d written in those forums where angry boys become dangerous men.

The doorbell rang. I yanked it open ready to threaten every single one of them with trespassing charges. The biggest biker stood there, phone in his hand, and before I could speak he said seven words that made my blood run ice cold: “Your son’s planning a school shooting tomorrow.”

My name is Robert Chen. Fifty-two years old. Lawyer. Three-bedroom house in Westwood Acres. Neighborhood association president. Everything proper. Everything by the rules.

And I despised bikers.

They represented everything wrong with society. No respect for noise ordinances. Property values dropped when they moved in. Their motorcycles woke my wife at 6 AM