Everyone dropped to the floor except me. Not because I was brave. Because training took over before fear could speak.
One of the intruders shouted, “Nobody move or somebody dies.”
Mr. Halvorsen raised his shaking hands. “Take anything you want. Please do not hurt my family.”
Mrs. Halvorsen grabbed her children and pulled them close, her voice cracking as she whispered prayers.
I stepped in front of them without thinking, placing myself between the rifles and the children whose small hands clung to my apron.
A masked man pointed his gun at me. “Get down.”
I looked directly at him. “If you shoot from that angle, you will hit a child. You do not want that. It will slow your escape.”
His finger twitched on the trigger. Confusion flickered behind his mask.
The leader of the group approached. He had steadier hands, colder eyes, and a voice that carried authority.
“You talk too much for a maid,” he said. “Come with us. You will keep them calm.”
I shook my head. “The children stay where I can see them. If they panic, your plan collapses.”
Mrs. Halvorsen whispered, “Please Rhea, just do what they say.”