Page 3 of Where We Began

- Chapter 2 -

Laiken

Ashiny black car isparked beside our cabin.

I've never seen that kind of car. I've also never seenanycar here besides Dad's Jeep. As I'm gawking, Kara grips my hand tighter. I glance at her, spotting how she's gone pale. I wasn't scared, but now I am.

Our front door on the porch is open. There's a man I don't know hovering there, his broad back resting on the hinges. He's wearing dark sunglasses. It makes him more intimidating.

He turns his head, spotting Kara and me. His mouth tightens then he leans into the house—my house—like he owns it. I can't catch what he says, but soon, three more strangers appear on my porch. Just behind them, half in the shadows of the cabin is my father.

The raw distress in his eyes cuts me to shreds.

“Let's run,” Kara whispers in my ear. God, but I'm tempted. Whatever is going on here isn't good; I know it in my trembling guts. But I can't abandon my family. Running wouldn't make these men vanish.

Holding her hand fiercely, I tug my sister towards the porch. Everyone watches us as we stand at the base of the steps. “Dad?” I ask softly.

He pushes through the men, dropping to his knees so he can hug us both. It's not a warm hug. It drives ice into my bones, it makes me sure something is wrong and it might never be right again.

“Kids,” he says thickly, his forehead pressing to mine then Kara's. We're too close for me to see his eyes, and I wonder if he's been crying. I've never seen him cry before. I didn't know he could. “Let's go inside. We need to talk.”

“What's going on?” Kara asks before I can.

“Let's sit down first.”

“No,” I say, sliding out of his embrace. He looks at me, and the redness in his tired eyes tells me hehasbeen crying. “Where's Mom? Where's Dean? Are they okay, whoarethose people?”

He glances over his shoulder. “Your mom and brother are fine. Everything is fine.”

“It isn't,” Kara whispers. “Don't lie.”

One of his hands lands on my shoulder. The other is on Kara's. I feel like we're all that's keeping him from collapsing. “You're right, I'm sorry. I don't want to lie... but I don't know how to explain what's going to happen. I just—I'm so sorry. God, I never thought this would happen. I was so careful, and—” he chokes, unable to finish.

Whatever childish anger has taken hold of me evaporates. Grabbing his arm, I squeeze it roughly. I cling on, my face buried in his sleeve. It smells like him, all smoke and pine and safety. I don't want to let go.

“Joseph,” a voice I don't know says. I lean away just enough to see a woman behind my dad. She's taller than my mother, her body sharp on the corners, made sharper by her dark jacket and hemmed pants. I've never seen anyone like her in my life. She's beautiful, but when she looks down on me, fear makes my tongue numb.

“I know,” Dad whispers. He's frowning severely - it highlights all of the wrinkles in his face. Lines I only notice now. “Girls, please. Let's sit inside. I'll tell you what's going to happen.”

The woman smiles. I hate her.

---