Page 11 of Tracking Shadows
“Watch it, Ivan,” Dad warns, though he’s smiling as he grabs a plate from the counter. “Or I’ll make you join the next session.”
“Please don’t,” Ivan groans, dramatically clutching his chest. “I’m allergic to exercise.”
“Sure you are.” I hit him as we gather around the table. “But you’re not allergic to eating, right?”
“Never,” he replies, already reaching for a piece of chicken. “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”
Mom swats his hand away with a laugh. “Wait until everyone’s seated, young man.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ivan grumbles, but he’s grinning as he takes his usual seat.
Dad sits at the head of the table, as always, with Ivan and me on either side of him. Mom places the last of the dishes down, her face glowing with that contented smile she always gets when we’re all together. It’s a look that makes my heart ache with happiness, even though I’d never admit it out loud.
“Everything looks amazing, Mom,” I say, my eyes widening at the spread in front of us. There's roast chicken, potatoes, green beans, all the good stuff.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” she replies, sitting across from me. “I’m glad you think so.”
Dad starts carving the chicken. “So, Ivan, how’s the dragon coming along?”
“It’s pretty awesome,” Ivan says, his face lighting up as he talks about his latest creation. “Three heads, with fire coming out of each one. It’s going to be my best one yet.”
“You say that about all your drawings,” I point out, reaching for a potato.
“That’s because I keep getting better,” Ivan retorts with a smug grin.
“You’re both getting better,” his eyes are filled with pride as he serves us all generous portions. “And that’s exactly what I want to see.”
Dinner continues like that, easy, filled with laughter and light teasing. We talk about everything and nothing, our voices mingling with the soft sounds of the radio playing in the background. It’s the kind of evening that’s so normal, so comfortable, that it lulls you into thinking everything is right with the world.
But then, just as I’m reaching for another helping of green beans, I hear the sound of glass shattering. The noise is so sudden, so out of place, that it takes a second for my brainto catch up. I freeze, my hand hovering midair as the sound echoes through the room.
“Stay here,” Dad says sharply, cutting through the stunned silence like a knife. He’s on his feet in an instant, the chair clattering to the floor behind him as he strides toward the front door.
“What was that?” Mom asks, trembling as she stands, her eyes wide with fear.
“Stay with the kids,” Dad orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.
My heart is racing, pounding in my chest so hard I can barely hear anything else. I glance at Ivan, who’s sitting as still as a statue, his face pale. His eyes meet mine, and I see the fear in them. Fear that mirrors my own.
Then, everything happens at once.
The front door bursts open with a deafening crash, and suddenly, the house is filled with strangers. Men with hard faces and guns drawn, their voices loud and harsh as they shout commands I can’t understand. My body moves before my mind can catch up. I jump to my feet, my heart screaming for me to do something, anything.
Dad reacts instantly, grabbing the first man by the arm and twisting it behind his back in a move that would have impressed me if I wasn’t terrified out of my mind. But there are too many of them, and before he can take down another, one of the men shoves a gun into his side, freezing him in place.
“Where is it?” the man growls with menace. “You know what we’re here for. Hand over the document, and we’ll let your family go.”
“I don’t have it,” Dad says, “You’re wasting your time.”
“Don’t bullshit us,” another man snarls, stepping closer. “We know you’ve got it. Sergei doesn’t like being lied to.”
Dad’s eyes narrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Sergei’s been misinformed.”
The man with the gun sneers, pressing the barrel harder against Dad’s side. “Wrong answer, old man. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“You think threatening me will change anything?” Dad’s voice is calm, unyielding. “I don’t have your document. You think I don't have superiors I report to?”
“We’re not here to play games. You’re going to tell us where the document is, or we’ll start with your family. Let’s see if that gets you talking.”