Heiress in Distress

•Chapter 4•

•Word count: 2020

-5 months ago-

A loud bang has me almost jumping out of my skin, and after rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I look around, in search of the source of the noise.
It takes me longer than necessary to register my surroundings -the heavy security, the jet plane, the numerous searchlights, and the man dressed in a General's uniform, who holds both his hands behind his back, striding purposefully in my direction-

What I do notice, though, is our car being parked, the hazard lights on, and the driver standing at the rear of the car being the culprit to scare me out of my slumber by slamming the trunk.

A train of realization slams into me and I jerk in my seat,

My parents, our house, blood, the dream...
It was not a dream.

Andrew.

The General pauses a few feet away from the car, making no effort to move further.
I have to squint my eyes against the already distorted vision to make out his face, searching his features for any sorts of familiarity.
I find none.

Then again, he's a general; he's the only person who can give me answers.
He's the only person who knows where my parents and Andrew are.
So, I will myself to remain calm and wait for his elaborations.

Following orders given to him right before my eyes, the driver opens my door, grabs the portable freezer and carefully places it over a set of hardside luggage on a trolley.
When he reaches for the baby's nest, I promptly pull her closer to me, and away from his range.

Perplexed, he retreats straight away, with a courteous nod sent in my direction, and a military salute to his General.

After dismissing the driver, it's the General's turn to lean into the backseat and extend his hand in a show of cordiality. Hesitating for only a second, I place my hand in the old man's, allowing him to help me out of the car. My chest tightens when I reach back to grab the baby. My poor baby sister.

How a baby stroller managed to materialise in the mere seconds I turned to grab the baby's nest from the car is beyond me. I must be really tired to not have noticed. Or distracted.
Certainly not upset or heartbroken, no.

A subtle throat clearing draws my attention to the seemingly patient General;

"This all should be peculiar to you, but-" He pauses on a realisation, before taking his peaked cap off and holding it close to his chest.

"First of all, I would like to deliver my sincere condolences on behalf of the whole German government on the grievous loss of your parents. I can only imagine how overwhelming everything must seem for you at this point" He pointedly looks in the baby's direction.

"But you ought to know, your parents died as warriors, should you to know what they've been working on prior to their tragic demise. They-" He breaks off, bowing his head.
It's then that I notice the tear rolling down my cheek, dropping onto the glass separating the baby from the outside world.

Died as warriors. Your parents. Warriors. Died.
Sincere condolences.

He patiently remains silent, allowing me to continue grieving.
If what he says is true, that my parents died 'warriors' then that blaze was an upshot of malicious devising, and my parents were, in fact, murdered.

That sliver of reasoning has my thoughts faltering.

Presuming that the fire flared up either fortuitously or intentionally, why hasn't there been any police officers conducting an investigation, or at the very least, assisting the mortals -assisting us-, my parents?