The Dangerfields

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Everybody freeze!" Screams one of the men as he enters the kitchen, pointing his pistol at Emma.

The Wests, who had already frozen when their house was broken into, stared for a moment. Shaun dropped the remote in his lap after muting the TV.

"What are you doing in our house? Did we do something wrong?" Emma asks, confusion lacing her voice. Hudson once told me that she was in plays when she was younger, and that she used to aspire to be an actress. Now I can fully understand why.

"We'll be asking the questions here." One of the women say, eyeing Emma like she's something gross stuck to her shoe.

Shaun comes to his wife's rescue, sounding angered by the way she spoke to Emma. "Actually, we have our basic rights, including the one to know why our house was broken into for reasons undisclosed by government agents."

The woman sighs in exasperation. "This house is claimed to be harbouring Temerary criminals, and you, the members of the West family, are subject to a search of your home. If we find anything suspicious, you will be arrested immediately."

I swallow the lump in my throat that has formed from this woman's spoken words, so serious and final.

We can't allow ourselves to be found. That wouldn't only be disastrous to us, it would also get Hudson and his parents arrested. It doesn't help that I know that Rick would be rewarded for it as well. That just makes me even more determined to stay hidden.

The traitor himself walks in, and I glare daggers at him. I keep my thoughts in check though, not wanting another situation like the accidental fire in the store. I keep magic use to a minimum, only allowing enough force through to stay invisible.

Rick stops in front of Emma, who seems to be barely containing her anger. It's hardly noticeable, but I can see her hands shaking slightly, and her knuckles are white from squeezing her hands in fists so tightly. But she is a good actress, and as she takes a breath, her hands unclench and she stills.

"Rick," she starts, "You know we've done nothing wrong, why would you frame us? For the past two years we've been close, you come over a few times a week, you eat our food and sit in our house spending time with our family. You're my little brother. Why is this how you repay us?"

Rick's eyes narrow, and he speaks in a low, serious voice, but still loud enough that we can all hear him. "I'm not doing this to you. It hurts that you take HER side, but you're still my sister. I'm doing this because I've had enough. Both Willow and Kylie Dangerfield have caused me pain and injury. They will pay for it now."

I look closer, and realize that his hands have blistered from the heat of Mom's wrists when he attacked her. His shirt is blackened with my handprints, which won't help us prove our innocence, or the idea that we were framed.

I stand in silence, praying to every God in every religion that we won't be found. Felix Harrison promised testing, and I have contain the shudder that tries to wrack my body as I think of what those tests could be like.

Three of the agents are upstairs, searching the bedrooms, while two head out to the backyard, and two search the living room. Two find the stairs to the basement and disappear to the lower level. The woman who keeps talking - she must be in charge - stands in the kitchen, making sure the Wests don't do anything. She has put her gun away, and Rick stands near her, glaring around the room, as if he could see us through our magic.

"What are these?" An agent asks in triumph, running down the stairs with two backpacks in hand. Our backpacks. With our clothes in them.

Well, crap.