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They sat in the living room, speaking in hushed tones so Aziel wouldn't be disturbed, although Arlana was confident he was so exhausted an earthquake wouldn't wake him up. Josiah sat across from her, toying with the handle of his coffee mug, lost in thought.
An insistent, sharp rapping on the door set Arlana's heart pounding in her throat. Josiah jumped up to answer the door, facing the inky darkness and any danger that may be waiting on the other side of the door, much to Arlana's relief.
Rivkah and Arlana exchanged looks, waiting with bated breath.
A few minutes later Josiah returned, Lachlan behind him. Arlana's jaw dropped, but no one seemed to notice.
"I tried to reach you on your cell phone," Lachlan proceeded, taking a seat beside Josiah, "but the reception must be bad. When I didn't find you at home," he gestured with his hand toward Rivkah, "I thought you might be here." Lachlan's voice was almost breathless.
Frowning, Josiah leaned forward, shifting only slightly when Arlana returned from the kitchen bringing Lachlan a drink as well.
Lachlan smiled a distracted 'Thank You,' continuing. "Have you heard the latest? There's just been a massacre..."
Josiah shot him a warning glance which Lachlan didn't notice.
"Where?" Arlana gasped, setting down her steaming mug of hot chocolate. The marshmallow-topped beverage was much too hot.
Lachlan turned, facing Arlana. "There was a murder. A massacre, they are calling it, in Quebec. They are saying the killers left a pig's head at the mosque entrance."
"Quebec?! Where? My sister lives there!" Arlana immediately feared the worst.
"In Quebec City. Muslims were praying in their mosque when a gunman shot them in the back of their heads. They are saying it was an act of terrorism and they are blaming President Trump for inciting a senseless act of violence."
"Aziel is sleeping just above us..." Josiah informed Lachlan, "I don't want him hearing this."
Lachlan lowered his voice, glancing for a second at the ceiling, "I'll be covering it of course, but I knew you'd what to be informed."
Again the men shared a look that spoke volumes without a word being said.
"Oh no, this is just what President Trump needs now. His banning Muslims will be seen as a hate crime," Arlana rubbed her suddenly cold arm, goosebumps erupting on her fair skin.
"President Trump called Prime Minister Trudeau yesterday to offer his condolences but says he refuses to back down on the Muslim Ban. Nations are flying their flags at half mast. That's a big deal that won't be going away anytime soon."
"I don't condone violence," Arlana crossed her legs, "Yet the media never mentions the hundreds of Christians that are massacred at their hands around the world. Where is the global outcry for those martyrs?"
"I agree. The media is completely biased. I cannot help but wonder if this will play into a bigger agenda."
Lachlan pulled out a notepad & pen and began scribbling notes, drawing a timeline sketch. "As you can see," he pointed to his drawing, "We have the president's inauguration. Six days later he bans Syrians indefinitely and a temporary ban on seven Muslim countries. The media covers the ban for forty-eight hours. That night, six Muslims were killed. Coincidence? You cannot deny the timing."
"But why Canada?" Arlana leaned forward. "Why Quebec? What's the connection?"
"I can't be certain yet, however, the prime minister has been seen having secret meetings in mosques with known terrorist connections. It is no secret that he is the polar opposite of the president. The Conservative Party is his greatest opposition. They were meeting in Quebec City when President Trump signed the executive order...."Lachlan frowned, "We have the puzzle pieces. Now to see where they fit..."
"That's not the half of it. You realize they will search our Facebook accounts, emails, cell phones - the list is endless - for hate speech," Lachlan was quick to inform her of the gravity of the situation.
"They can't search our emails!"
"Yes, Arlana, they can. Legally, every email becomes open to the public after thirty days."
"I don't have the internet here..."
"Yes, you are off the grid, but there is a real danger. They will be able to see your posts denouncing their persecution of Christians and anything else that they might find..." Lachlan didn't finish. "They have your contacts through your friend's list. People don't realize just how much information the government and other agencies can access directly from social media sites."
Arlana blanched. There was no internet service here. It was too late to delete her information, contacts and the thousands of private pictures she had only started to delete a few weeks before her great escape. It appeared she had run out of time.
Josiah watched the interaction between Lachlan and his Arlana wishing Lachlan had gone home and changed before heading to the farm. In his crisp suit, he stood out from Josiah's plaid shirt and wind-tousled hair. It was more than that. They had a connection, a flow between them he and Arlana did not have. If he told her he was the brains behind the operation, it might be different, but he could not. Not yet. And right now, Lachlan had her full attention. Was it jealousy he was feeling? The emotion was so unfamiliar, Josiah was struggling to put his finger on it. Regardless, it couldn't be denied. Arlana's eyes shone as she leaned forward, she and Lachlan's hands nearly touching more than once.
Josiah rubbed the back of his neck. He was being crazy yet it didn't take a blind man to see that there was natural chemistry between his best friend and the woman he hoped to marry as soon as possible. It worked in his favour that Lachlan needed to leave once more. They really couldn't be wasting valuable time. That also meant Josiah couldn't pass this assignment off as he had been doing these past months. He had no choice but to leave Arlana. He needed time to clear his head and come to terms with this emotion he didn't exactly care for.
"I have to go," Josiah stood, setting down his empty mug. "With Shaul gone..." he spoke half to himself, rubbing the back of his neck.
"When are you leaving?" Rivkah finally spoke up.
"Now."
Arlana didn't want to be left alone in the middle of nowhere with a massacre happening less than four hours away from her home. She turned to Rivkah, "Will you stay here tonight? There's a guest room..."
Rivkah smiled, "Thank you."
Josiah was a little surprised at the turn of events but was relieved the women would be together and have that support.
He kissed his mother's cheek, a muscle twitching in his jaw when he looked at Arlana. Standing silhouetted in the doorframe, their eyes locked.
"Goodnight Arlana."
"Goodnight," she murmured, wishing Josiah wouldn't leave.
Josiah's eyes widened hearing the longing in her voice. He'd been mistaken. The love in her eyes as she gazed up at him was unmistakable. There was no need for him to worry, but that didn't change the fact he needed to leave. More determined than ever, if that was possible, he disappeared into the night with Lachlan at his side.
Arlana didn't want to pry but she did hope Rivkah would explain what was going on. The older woman was much calmer, almost tranquil.
Rivkah helped collect the empty mugs. This was her reality and, after seeing the love in Arlana's eyes for her son, would soon be Arlana's future as well. However, it was not her place to reveal secrets. And so, embracing the younger woman, she bid her hostess goodnight, calling over her shoulder, "I think we should go to bed early. It will give us less time to worry."
Drawing the curtains closed, Arlana double-checked the locks before running across the cold, wooden floor to the staircase and up to bed.
The faint sound of prayer could be heard between the bedroom wall late into the night. Arlana sighed. She wanted to pray for the men, her heart ached for them, but she knew her praying would be in vain. Rivkah, in contrast, was unsullied and faithful. Surely God would listen to Rivkah's prayers. Sleep eluded Arlana until dawn.
"Mummy," a gentle kiss on her cheek awakened her. Arlana hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep.
"Let's go downstairs," she instructed, not wanting to awaken her guest
Arlana needn't have fretted. Rivkah greeted them with a slight smile, her eyes red with exhaustion and, Arlana correctly suspected, tears. Having prayed the night away, Rivkah was setting out breakfast, ready to face the dawning of a new day.