TWO DAYS LATER.

My morning sleep is rudely interrupted by a harsh knock on the door. I hastily jump down from the bed and go to open, preparing to scold at whoever I see. My mouth instantly shuts up when I open the door and see a group of soldiers standing at the door and I swallow hard, nervously. What have I done this time around?

What are they doing here so early in the morning?

“How may I help you?”

“Kylie’s jewelry has been stolen, we have been instructed ...