Chapter 18 Ronan
Ronan
I sat with my knees on the couch, sprawled over the back cushions, staring impatiently into the kitchen.
Mom was humming under her breath, sleeves rolled up, a strand of pretty blonde hair loose against her cheek as she rinsed the last of the dinner plates.
Dad sat at the table beside Henri, his reading glasses sliding down his nose as he tried to make sense of the mess of glue and cardboard that was supposed to be a solar system.
On the floor between us was Lia, softly giggling as her Barbie rode around on the back of her elephant stuffie.
“Flower, aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for the bath?” Mom called, her back still to us as she finished the dishes.
Lia gave a big, dramatic sigh, making me laugh. She pressed her finger to her mouth as she looked up at me. “Shhh!”
“I can hear you over there,” Mom said, slight amusement in her tone.
Dad huffed out a laugh and turned his attention from the table to Lia. “Come on, herzchen. Listen to Mom, yeah?”
Lia held his eye contact as she threw herself to the floor, spreading her limbs out like a starfish.
Dad shook his head at her antics and went back to focusing on Henri’s work.
“Are you almost done yet?” I asked.
Dad gave me a distracted smile as he glanced over to where I was hanging off the back of the couch. “Almost, Andreas. Just need to help your brother get Jupiter to stop collapsing.”
I frowned. “But it’s almost bedtime! You promised to hang out with me tonight,” I whined.
Mom looked over her shoulder at me. “Liebling, let your dad focus, please. Henri needs to get a good grade on this. Maybe you two can hang out tomorrow after dinner?”
“But—”
“I’m sorry, Andreas,” Dad said, a guilty look on his face. “I don’t think we’ll have time tonight. But I promise I’ll be all yours tomorrow, alright? We can do whatever you want.”
I crossed my arms, heat rising to my face. “But it’s not fair!”
Dad sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect this to take up so much of the evening. As soon as I get home from work tomorrow, it’ll be all about you, okay? We can even order pizza, just the two of us.”
I didn’t want tomorrow. I wanted now.
I puffed out an angry breath of air, slid off the couch, and stomped over to the stairs. I made sure to continue my stomps all the way up and down the hall to my room. Maybe Dad would be sad that I was upset and decide to hang out with me after all.
I trudged into my bedroom and sat on the edge of my bed, overlooking the window.
My room was the coolest because I got to see the front yard and the street. Lia and Henri’s room was on the opposite side of the hall with no windows.
I peeked out into the darkness, a soft yellow glow lining the street from the streetlamps.
Sometimes I could even see into our neighbor’s living room across the street if Ms. Nelson forgot to shut the blinds.
Not much really happened over there, but I could catch glimpses of the TV dramas she enjoyed watching or see her toy poodle curl up on her dog bed.
Headlights pulling into our driveway shook me out of my thoughts.
I looked down at the mysterious car, unable to place it. None of Mom and Dad’s friends had cars like it. It seemed too fancy for our neighborhood.
I watched curiously as all four doors opened and a small group of men got out, moving with purpose up the pavement.
They were all dressed in dark clothing. Maybe they were from Dad’s work?
One of the four stood a half-step back from the rest, letting them move first. It reminded me of a celebrity with bodyguards.
Within a few seconds, they disappeared under the awning, out of sight from my window.
I was at my bedroom door as the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” my mom said loudly. I padded down the upstairs hallway towards the stairs.
I listened as Mom opened the door and greeted the group of strangers, her voice turning from warm and polite to uncertain in a split second.
“Good… evening.” Her words carried faintly up the stairs. There was the shuffle of feet, the low murmur of male voices.
Tension filled the air.
Her tone shifted again, the brightness now completely gone. “ I-I’m sorry, who did you say you were with?”
The reply came too quietly to make out, the voice deep and clipped. I took one hesitant step down the stairs, my hand gliding along the wooden banister.
There was more hushed talking. Then, Mom’s voice took a tone I’d never heard from her before. “No, please. My children are here, please, my children—”
Something in me froze. The panic in her voice, the sound of Mom scared—it didn’t belong in our house.
I leaned forward, just enough to peek between the spindles of the railing.
The front door was still half-open. Mom stood in the entryway, her hand up in a useless barrier against the men on the porch. Her eyes darted toward the kitchen.
And then one of them shoved her. Hard.
She stumbled backward into the hallway, catching herself against the wall. The tallest of the four stepped inside first, then the others. The click of the lock echoed up the staircase like a gunshot.
Dad’s chair scraped loudly across the tile. “Schatz, who is it? Hey! What the hell do you think you’re—”
One of the men barked something short—a command.
Mom’s voice broke, pleading again, “Please, we’ll give you whatever you want, just—just don’t hurt my family. Please, the children. Please.”
Henri whimpered. Lia started crying.
The man who’d been at the back of the group took off his gloves, slowly, like he had all the time in the world, the other men parting as he walked forward.
His auburn hair caught the kitchen light when he stepped forward, and he looked around the room with calm detachment, eyes gliding over everything until they found my father.
Dad moved instinctively, half-shielding Mom and my siblings. “You need to leave. Right now. Whatever this is, you—”
“Sit down,” the man said quietly. The sound of his voice was like static—calm, unhurried, but it filled every inch of space until there was nothing else.
Dad didn’t sit. He took a step forward.
The one closest to him lifted a gun.
Mom screamed.
And then everything dissolved into noise—the crash of a chair, the shattering of glass, Henri yelling, Lia’s cries turning into terrified shrieks.
I ducked down against the steps, shaking so hard I could feel my teeth rattle.
“Put—put down the gun, I’ll sit! I’ll sit, so—” my Dad shouted, his hands raised in surrender. He carefully walked backward into the kitchen, keeping Mom, Henri, and Lia behind him at all times. When he reached the table, he kept his hands up as he lowered into one of the wooden seats.
“The others need to sit too,” one of the men stated. I listened, my hands pressed against my mouth to suppress my cries, as the sound of my family pulling out chairs came and went.
I wanted to join them, to hide behind Dad, but the flash of the gun in my memory made me stay rooted to my spot at the top of the stairs.
The man with the calm voice spoke. “There’s supposed to be another one, isn’t there?”
Another in the group answered him, “Yes, sir. Another boy.”
My mom whimpered.
There was the sound of shuffling, like the strangers were walking around the kitchen and living room.
“Where is he?”
“P-please—” Mom’s voice broke.
“He’s—he’s not here. He’s at a friend’s house tonight,” my dad said.
“Hmm,” the man hummed. “So if I check upstairs, I won’t find anyone?”
“No, it’s just us.”
A loud click echoed throughout the house, and my mom erupted into sobs.
“If you’re lying, I’ll put a bullet in this one’s skull.”
“No!” Dad’s voice cracked. “Please, please don’t hurt them. I’m telling you the truth, he’s—”
The man, seemingly the one in charge, spoke again. “This is your last chance. Tell me where he is.”
“I swear to you, he’s—”
A hand smacked the table, rattling it. “Last chance,” the man repeated. “Or I’ll let my men start choosing who goes first.”
The sound that came from my dad was one I’d never heard before—part sob, part shout, his voice breaking open. “He’s upstairs! He’s upstairs.”
Mom gasped like she’d been hit.
The man exhaled slowly. “See? That wasn’t so difficult. Now. Ask the boy to come down. Gently. Or I’ll have one of my men drag him down by his hair.”
Dad made a choking sound, then called out shakily, “Andreas! Andreas, buddy, come downstairs!” His voice cracked halfway through, desperate and falsely bright. “It’s okay, everything’s fine, just—just come down, liebling.”
My whole body went cold. Every instinct screamed don’t move, but the weight of his voice pulled at me.
“Andreas!” he called again, more broken this time. “It’s alright, I promise. Just come here. Please.”
I stood on trembling legs, the stairs creaking as I took one hesitant step, then another. The men turned at the sound. The ones in the back of the group didn’t look nice.
But when I reached the last step, they parted silently, leaving a clear path into the kitchen.
Mom was crying openly now. Henri was clinging to her side. Lia’s small face was hidden in her hands.
As I inched forward on trembling legs, the man at the front turned.
He’d been facing my family, his expression detached, but when his eyes landed on me, something shifted. The faintest curl of a smile tugged at his lips. His expression went from cold indifference to something far worse.
He approached slowly, the others stepping back without a word. He crouched down so we were eye level, and when his hand came to rest on my shoulder, the grip was firm enough to hurt.
“Well, there you are,” he said, voice smooth and steady. “Are you Andreas?”
I couldn’t make my voice work at first. “U-uh-huh…”
“Andreas,” he repeated, tasting the name. “And how old are you, sweetheart?”
“Nine.”
His hand began to rub my shoulder. “Do you love your family?”
I swallowed, nodding. “Yes.”
His eyes flicked toward my parents and siblings, then back to me. “That’s good.”
His hand tightened, thumb pressing into the soft muscle until it made my knees wobble.