A Disabled Marine Walked By—Minutes Later, Hells Angels Made Them Regret It Houston at lunch hour—heat shimmering over asphalt, a chain-link fence rattling in a dry breeze, a small U.S. flag snapping above a corner store. Sarah Miller—thirty-one, Bronze Star, Purple Heart—moves past the construction site with that measured, almost musical rhythm of carbon fiber meeting concrete. She isn’t looking for trouble. She’s looking for the VA clinic across the next light and a chair where the socket gets

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