The Knife Thrower

Chapter 8

I make my way to my class for the day. Up two flights of stairs and down the hall, to the door on my left. I enter and grab a seat next to Vanessa. Seems everyone is already here. Almost everyone.
"Where is Hayly?" I whisper to Vanessa as we wait for a teacher to come teach us.
"Didn't you hear?" Vanessa whispers back, "her parents paid the money, so she's safe. Also means she doesn't need to come to school until this is all over." I don't think this will be over any time soon, but I don't say anything.
At that moment Mr Evlo walks into the room, my English teacher, followed by two policemen with big guns strapped to their back. I freeze, a million thoughts running through my head at once. Are they here to arrest me because they know I have a knife? Did Blake tell them I looked suspicious? Do they know my parents are spies and their here to take us away? I try to slow down my breathing, trying not to look suspicious. Mr Evlo looks nervous, eyes darting back and fourth between the guards and the door. Oh he better not leave us!
"Class," he says quickly, "these two younge gentlemen are here to ask you a few questions. They have been sent from the government." My heart beat slows down a bit, but not much. I bite my lip nervously, wondering what they are going to ask. The bigger one of the two, obviously in charge, steps forward. He has close-cropped blonde hair, a scarred buff face and hands the size of hamburgers. His cruel eyes sweep the room and, thank the Lord, slide right past me.
"One by one we will call you out to ask you a few questions. Nothing scary," he laughs as he says this but no one laughs with him. His voice is gruff and loud, his smile twisted and cold.
"Let's start with..." He scans the room again, but this time his eyes settle on me, "...her." He points at me and signals for me to follow him. He goes out first, then me with his red-haird partner following. I have to stay calm, it's only a few questions. Maybe he'll let something slip, something that can help me in the long run. His partner shuts the door firmly behind us, leaving us in the deserted corridor. The big guard stands in front of me and the other one gets out a sheet of paper. Probably to write down everything I say.
"What's your name?" He starts with and I inwardly sigh in relief. If all the questions are this easy I will pass this test for sure. Like math.
"Kyra Avedel." His partner scribbles it down on his note pad.
"How old are you Miss Avedel?"
"Seventeen, eighteen in a few months," I say quickly, eager to get this other with.
"What are your parents names?" His face remains impassive.
"John and Elizabeth Avedel," I hold my breath. If they know my parents are spies, I'm dead. He nods his head in approval and I almost sigh in relief.
"And one last question, Miss Avedel." he says, breaking me out of my thoughts. I brace myself for the worst. But nothing could have prepared me for what he was about to ask.