The air inside Summit Ridge National Bank was filled with hushed conversations and the soft rustling of papers as customers went about their business. Bobby Keene, a man of few words but many stories, stood quietly in line. His presence was unassuming, yet the history he carried with him was monumental.
The black cap he wore, emblazoned with “Korea/Vietnam Veteran,” was more than just an accessory; it was a badge of honor. In his pocket, he held his VA card, discharge papers, and a brass challenge coin—symbols of a life dedicated to service. When Bobby reached the counter, the young teller squinted at his ID with skepticism.
The manager, Caden, joined them, his lips curling into a smirk. “This looks like something typed on a dinosaur,” he mocked, dismissing the worn documents with a wave of his hand. Bobby calmly presented his challenge coin, a token of camaraderie and respect among soldiers.
But Caden, lacking understanding, brushed it aside as “just a cute trinket” probably bought online. The accusation stung: Bobby was being labeled a fraud, a fake veteran, and Caden, with undue authority, called security to escort him out. As Bobby was ushered to a nearby bench, silent and dignified, the room buzzed with whispers and stifled laughter.
Yet, he chose not to protest. He knew the worth of his journey and needed no validation from those unaware of its significance. However, not everyone was ignorant of the symbols Bobby held dear.
Maya Rodriguez, a former Air Force specialist standing in line, caught sight of the incident. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the challenge coin’s true value—a testament to honor and sacrifice, not something frivolous. “You’ve made a mistake,” Maya declared, confronting Caden with a firmness that silenced the mocking snickers around her.
Ignoring his dismissive shrug, she stepped outside, her mind racing. She knew someone who could rectify this injustice. Inside, an older employee overheard the murmured discussions about Bobby.
The name Keene resonated with him, and he glanced up at the bank’s plaque honoring past community leaders, one of whom was Bobby himself. Alarmed and perplexed, the employee made a discreet call: “It’s Bishop Coyne. Summit Ridge.
He’s here.”
Meanwhile, Bobby sat outside, his eyes fixed on the flag flapping in the breeze. Each ripple reminded him of the battles fought, both abroad and within his heart. Unbeknownst to the bustling bank, his quiet vigil was about to receive unexpected reinforcement.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
