Don't Let Them In

Mika and George we settled in for the evening.  Mika sat with her feet curled under her on her side of the sofa and George was on his.  The fire was lit, the wine was poured, and the cat was curled up on the rug in front of them.  Mika was engrossed in her novel, but George appeared tense and a tad jittery.

George put his book down on his lap.  He reached for his glass and glanced over at his wife.  She was extraordinary in this light.  He couldn’t be more lucky.  He hoped his life wasn’t going to change.

“Mika, I have to talk to you.”

She looked up at him quizzically, then reached for her glass.  “Is something wrong, George?”

“I don’t want to alarm you and I hope this is nothing to worry about, but the guys at the precinct gave me a heads up on a break-out from Reichart Correctional Facility last night.” 

“Are you concerned?”  She frowned, putting her glass down on the table.

George slid over to where his wife was sitting, pulled her to him and held her close.  “I hope not.  But the sergeant wasn’t sure which way the prisoners were headed.  I just think we should be prepared in case something should happen.”

“What else did the Sarge tell you?”  Did he think they were headed this way?" Mika's voice had a slight quiver to it.

“He wasn’t sure, but he said they weren’t dangerous.  Their crimes were white collar and didn’t involve any violence.  He did say something a little strange, though.”  George looked puzzled.

“What did he say, honey?”

“That we should lock everything up and have an alternative plan if anyone should come to the door.  And also...

...DON’T LET THEM IN.”