Page 135 of The Bronze Garza

But Patrick’s opinion has always meant a lot to me, and since his thumbs-up is all I have to go on for now, I stand and cross the room to my vision board on the wall. From the table below it, I pick up the cutout of a stack of plain books with “Ly Henderson” written on the spines and paste it onto my board.

There. Finished.

Now, I’ll just have to wait forhimto come to me again.

~

A cacophonous combinationof loud banging on the house doors and the relentless din of the doorbell startles me from my sleep.

A quick glance at the night clock tells me it’s 2:09 AM.

Drowsy and confounded, I stumble out of bed and plod out of my room, wondering who on earth could be banging our door down at this hour andwhy.

An equally groggy and confused Eloise collides with me when I step out into the hallway. Dad is already several feet ahead of us.

“Are you expecting someone?” I ask her, rubbing my eyes.

“No,” she answers through a wide yawn. “But at this hour, I imagine it has something to do with that restless mother of yours.”

Well...true, Mom is known for showing up at odd and random times, but I doubt she’d be making such a ruckus. She would have at least phoned me.

We sluggishly pad down the stairs together, while Dad power-walks ahead to the foyer, then swings open the door.

At the sight of flashing red and blue lights outside, I ground to a halt.

OhGodOhGodOhGod. Please let Mom be okay. Please let Mom be okay.Please let Mom be okay.

Across the threshold are two agents in FBI vests.

“Mitch Henderson?” one of them asks.

“Yes?” Dad answers.

“You are under arrest for harboring Russian fugitives Irina Popov and Yuri Popov, who were smuggled illegally into the United States.”

“I don’t understand,” Dad says. “I don’t know anyone by those names.”

“You have the right to remain silent,” the agent replies as he twists Dad’s hands behind his back and starts cuffing him. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you.”

“No!” I shriek, rushing forward. “Thishasto be a mistake. This is our home, and we don’t know anyone by those names.”

The second agent stares pointedly beyond me. I whip around to follow his line of vision, which leads right to Eloise, who’s rooted at the foot of the stairs, wide-eyed and stricken, all the blood drained from her face.

Only then does it all start to make sense.

It’s her.

It’s fuckingher.

Dad’s unusual behavior for the past two weeks? It’s because he’dknown.

He’d known and was waiting.

Waiting forthis.

Oh my god.

As the agent brushes past me and toward her, she begins backing up, shaking her head wildly. “Miss Irina Popov, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”