Dinner concluded, and we all retired to our respective rooms for a peaceful night's sleep—or so I thought.
As it often happens, our most cherished wishes tend to go unfulfilled. The restful night of sleep I had yearned for remained elusive, as I started hearing strange noises after only three hours.
BANG BANG BANG
The distinctive sounds jolted me awake. In an instant, I was on my feet, scanning the darkened room. Everything seemed as it should be, cloaked in shadows. But then, the voices reached my ears—voices I knew all too well.
"What are you doing in my home? Who are you?" My father's voice, usually so familiar and comforting, resonated with anger, a tone I could not quite place.
"Ambassador Karl Crown, with the authority vested in me, Captain Fred Larson, you are hereby under arrest!" declared a stern, emotionless voice. It was Captain Fred Larson, his words dripping with authority and finality.
My heart raced as I strained to comprehend what was happening. I could not see anything in the dark, but I knew that something grave had occurred. My instincts kicked in, and I knew I needed to act swiftly.
I slipped out of my bed, tiptoed to the bedroom door, and cautiously pressed my ear against it, straining to catch any snippets of the conversation beyond. My mother's voice, laced with concern, now joined the mix.
"Fred, please, there must be some misunderstanding. You cannot just barge into our home like this," my mother pleaded.
The response from Captain Larson was cold and unyielding. "Madam, we are following orders. The Ambassador is to come with us immediately. The High Council has issued a warrant."
A warrant? The High Council? None of this made any sense to me. My father, always so composed, was now entangled in a situation I could not begin to fathom.
Gathering my courage, I crept to the window, careful not to make a sound. I gingerly pulled back the curtain, allowing a sliver of moonlight to filter into the room. From my vantage point, I could just make out the figures in the hallway, where dim light spilled from the corridor.
There, I saw my father, standing tall, his expression a mix of anger and defiance. Captain Larson, flanked by two uniformed officers, looked imposing and determined.
My mother stood nearby, her face etched with worry. And then, I noticed Isma, my young brother, his eyes wide with confusion and fear.
I had to do something. I had to find out what was happening, to protect my family. But how could I intervene in a situation that seemed so far beyond our control? The questions swirled in my mind, and the night had taken a dire turn, shrouded in uncertainty.
In the dimly lit corridor, my father, Ambassador Karl Crown, took a deep breath and glanced toward the bedroom door. It was as though he could sense my presence on the other side, even though he could not see me. With a barely perceptible nod, he subtly communicated a message, one that only I would understand: "Stay hidden, Rima. Do not come out."
My heart sank as I comprehended his unspoken plea. Whatever was happening here, my father wanted me to remain hidden and safe. His words reverberated in my mind, reinforcing the message that he could not openly convey.
Sophia, my mother, continued her attempts to reason with Captain Fred Larson and his men. "Please, there must be some mistake. Karl is a respected Ambassador. You cannot simply arrest him like this," she implored, her voice trembling with worry.
Captain Larson remained stoic, unwavering in his duty. "Madam, I assure you; we are following orders from the High Council. They have issued a warrant for Ambassador Crown's arrest."
As the tense standoff continued in the corridor, a sense of hopelessness washed over me. I could not simply stand by and watch my family face this ordeal. I needed to find a way to help, to escape from my room unnoticed, and to protect them.
Silently, I considered my options. The window was my only means of escape, but it was too high for me to reach without making noise. The door was equally unviable, as the soldiers were stationed right outside. Panic threatened to overwhelm me as I desperately searched for a solution.
The rustle of uniforms and the low murmur of conversation from the hallway added to my growing sense of urgency. I needed to think, and fast. Suddenly, a glimmer of an idea sparked in my mind. The attic—there was a small hatch in my closet that led to the attic. If I could reach it quietly, I might be able to find a way out or at least a better vantage point.
I moved as silently as possible, sliding open the closet door and feeling for the small latch that opened the attic hatch. The wood creaked slightly as I pulled it down, my heart pounding louder with each sound. Carefully, I climbed up, pulling the hatch closed behind me. The attic was dusty and filled with old, forgotten items, but it offered a perfect hiding place.
From the attic, I could hear the muffled sounds of the confrontation below. My father's voice was calm but firm, asserting his innocence and demanding answers. Captain Larson remained impassive, his orders clear and unyielding.
"Search the house. Find Rima," I heard Larson command. My breath caught in my throat. They were looking for me.
I crawled to the farthest corner of the attic, praying that the darkness and clutter would conceal me. The fear and uncertainty gnawed at me, but I knew I had to stay hidden. For now, it was the only way to keep myself and my family safe.