Heiress in Distress

•Chapter 24•

One sentence riddle, two space answer. I rack my brain for an answer, sticking to the word 'family' for too long.

My parents held the highest rank in one of the BND's several departments, and according to what little they shared with me, excelled in the field, to a point where a new directive has been introduced. Hierarchy, or the ability to pass the position on to offspring. A scoff inadvertently leaves my mouth at the memory.

I was to be the Heiress to the department they were assigned to and I was to marry the Heir to the equalling substantial department -Andrew. Looking back, I find it almost ironic, having my whole life planned out before me, and then, in the blink of an eye, snatched away from me, as if life is just a toddler messing with me, holding what I want the most out of my reach and sticking its tongue out at me.

I shake my head, hoping to dislodge the thoughts from my mind.
'It's our reality now' is what I keep telling myself.

I push the rolling chair back slightly, going for the drawers, opening each one and searching for a possible clue or, if i'm lucky enough, an answer.
There's a number of folders, I notice, as I lift them up and out of the way.

My heart almost flies out of my chest, taking my resolve along with it, at the picture in front of me.

She was always the most beautiful women I've ever been fortunate to look at.

Supporting the rest of the folders overlying the one I currently hold, I carefully pull it out.
I don't realise there are tears that have escaped until a stray tear drops on the plastic sleeve, sliding easily down the smoothness.

At the top right corner of the paper, is a picture of my mother, not smiling, not frowning, but professionally expressionless.
On its own accord, my hand caresses the picture, through the plastic, as if my mother's head would poke out to kiss the tip my finger like she usually did.

The picture slowly warps and disappears behind the blurry shield of my vision, so I lift my head up and look at the ceiling, taking a deep breath.
I close my eyes, which readily expel the tears.

The distantly ticking clock in my head wakes me up from my trance, as I wipe my tears and continue assessing the paper, deliberately avoiding another look at the picture.

Under the name slot is: Rula Hakim Osama. I frown, slightly affronted by the typographical error in my mother's name.
My mother's name has a beautiful ring to it, so switching the 'b' with the 'l' is quite noticeable.

My eyes trek through the paper, brows furrowing further at the words. The whole document houses a number of paragraphs that allude to absolute nonsense, especially the words 'Trident Heights'

The soft knock on the door makes me jump, my bladder almost giving out.
I have been caught, and I would look exceptionally ridiculous if I try to deny it-

The door swings slowly open, and Armin casually walks in, shutting the door behind. My eyes droop close with a sigh, my blood pressure gradually decreasing.

Armin walks over, hands stuffed in his pockets, "Figured you'd be here,"

I nod towards the screen, tossing the plastic sleeve back into the drawer, "Another password,"

He frowns, leaning over, "Your father's keeping these things behind a veil of encryptions only means one thing," he squints his eyes, silently reading the riddle,
"Whatever hidden is absolutely important, if not dangerous."

In response to his wanting to investigate posture, I stand up to free the chair for him, which he soon takes.

I saunter towards the board, lifting the veil, "What do you think these things allude to ?,"