This chapter contains themes of home invasion, kidnapping, and mild violence.

The night was warm, the sky a canvas of deep indigo with stars faintly scattered across its vast expanse. In the quiet village, a peaceful subdivision with neatly lined houses and dimly lit streets, our home rested in silence. The faint chirping of crickets filled the air, mixing with the occasional rustling of leaves in the evening breeze.

Dinner had ended not too long ago, the scent of home-cooked food still faintly lingering in the air. Rue had left to buy dessert from the nearby convenience store, promising he wouldn't take long. Our younger brother had gone to bed early, and our parents were chatting quietly in the living room.

I sat on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through my phone, letting the soft glow of the screen lull me into distraction. The low hum of the television provided a sense of normalcy, the perfect background noise to keep the evening from feeling too quiet.

It was an ordinary night—until the silence was shattered by the sound of breaking glass.

I froze, my phone slipping from my grasp as the sudden noise sent a jolt of unease through me. A heavy thud echoed from the lower floor, followed by hurried footsteps.

A scream.

My mother’s voice.

My body moved before I could think, my legs carrying me toward the stairs as panic rose in my chest.

The sight that met me froze me in place.

Men in black combat gear stood in our living room, their faces concealed by masks. One of them held my mother back, her terrified eyes locked onto mine as she struggled against the tight grip on her arm. My father knelt on the floor, restrained by two men, his face calm but his eyes sharp with defiance.

"We have him," one of the men announced through a voice modulator. "Secure the area."

My breath hitched. Have him? What did they want with my father?

I wanted to move, to say something, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. My father’s gaze flickered toward me, something unspoken passing between us—a silent plea for me to stay out of this.

I didn’t understand. Why were they taking him?

Before I could process what was happening, the men began pulling my father toward the door. My mother screamed, struggling harder against their grip.

"Please! Don’t do this! I’m begging you!" she cried, her voice raw with desperation.

I clenched my fists. No. This isn’t right.

A strange sensation surged through me, a deep pull from within my chest, as if something inside me had been waiting for this moment. The air around me wavered, like heat rising from pavement. My vision blurred, and—

My father wasn’t kneeling—he was standing, fighting back. My mother wasn’t restrained—she was reaching for me.

And then—

BZZZT! CRACK! ZZZK—

A sharp pain shot through my head, and I gasped, my knees buckling beneath me. My breathing came in ragged gasps as the reality before me remained unchanged. Nothing had changed.

I had seen something—

But it didn’t matter.

Before I could recover, the masked men had already made their move. The sound of a communicator crackled through the tension-filled air.

"Someone’s outside. We need to leave."

The intruders hesitated before adjusting their plan.

"Move. Now."

I tried to scream, to run forward—to do anything—but my body remained frozen, my mind clouded with panic.

Then came the sound of heavy footsteps pounding against the ground.

Rue.

But it was too late. The black van screeched as it sped off, taking our father away.

And all I could do was watch.