Prologue

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I peered through the crack of the wardrobe I had been shoved into. I pressed a hand to my mouth as I took in what I saw. My mother was behind my father and she was trembling and crying. My father had a clenched jaw and looked strong and steady. He didn't look like he was afraid, but I knew my father well enough to see through the mask of bravery he had put up and notice the glint of fear in his brown eyes. I strained to see what, or rather who, was causing my mother to weep, but to no avail. I thought about pushing the closet door open just a bit, but then my father's warning rang in my head. "Maya, I want you to stay in this closet and keep quiet. No matter what happens or what you see or hear, do not leave this closet. Do you understand me?" As much as I want to see what is happening on the other side of this door, my father's words to me kept me in place. It was something about the way he had spoken to me, the fierce look in his eye that was meant to mask the fear in his face, the way he seemed sad and angry at the same time, that kept me in my place in the closet. I continued to watch and wonder what was happening when I heard someone speak.

    "Any last words Thomas? Isabelle?" snickered a man's voice. I didn't recognize the voice but it sounded happy and pleasant to the ear. I pressed the hand tighter to my mouth as the words the stranger spoke began to sink in. "Last words." I thought. Surely this was just some cruel joke, right? This man probably works with my father and came to play a game of cards. Right now, my father is probably about to lose, thus any last words. Though if this were the case, my mother wouldn't be crying, would she?

    I concentrated on shutting down these thoughts that were running wild through my brain and instead focused on the scene before me. I watched as my father held his head high and said, " Why are you doing this? We haven't wronged you in any way. You can still walk away from this. Just let us go." My father's voice was strong, yet there was a sense of pleading in his tone.

    " No. No, I am afraid I cannot walk away from you. Not until I have finished what I have come here to do. And I am also afraid that you have wronged me in a sense. You serve your country, and therefore you must die. There will be a war against your country and mine. It might not be soon, but I can assure you it will come, and the best advantage my country will have is the element of surprise. If you tell your King about my country's plans, our plans will be ruined. I have decided that more often than not, it is best to take matters into your own hands. That, Thomas, is exactly what I plan to do. It is now time to take matters into my own hands and out of yours." the stranger's voice barked at my father. The man's voice sounded pleased that he was able to make a speech. He seemed like someone who liked to hear himself talk. Although, if I must admit, the voice did have a sort of charm to it.

    All of the sudden I saw something metallic flash through the air, then I heard a gasp, and then silence. I looked at my fathers now pale face and then down to the dagger that protruded from his chest. My father fell to his knees, gasping for air, as the stranger sauntered toward my father with another dagger in hand. My mother was screaming as the man pushed the dagger against my father's throat, and then slowly dragged it across, slashing open my father's neck. I heard gurgling noises as my father choked on his own blood and then died.

    "If only you and your husband didn't go sticking your noses where they didn't belong, none of this would have happened." the man taunted as he advanced on my mother. When he reached her, she was kicking and screaming, but none of her struggles helped and soon she was lying dead on the floor in a puddle of blood.

    I felt something hot against my cheek and realized my face was stained with tears. Even though I was crying, I made sure to stay silent as the stranger stepped over the bodies and made his way to the door. Now that I could see the man, I realized he was probably in his late 20's or early 30's. He had shaggy, chocolate brown hair, tan skin, and was dressed entirely in black. I waited until I heard the front door of the house click shut before I released a breath I hadn't even known I had been holding. I waited a long while in the closet before I finally decided to push the door open and get out.

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