Aislinn McCain

Friday evening was your own little holiday. No rush, no errands. You chose a table by the window at your favorite cafe, ordered cream of mushroom soup, a salad, and a large mug of tea. It was getting dark outside, and inside, the scent of cinnamon and freshly baked goods filled the air. You ate slowly, scrolling through social media, savoring every minute of the two free days ahead. A perfect evening.

After a quick bathroom break, you heard a growing rumble outside. You listened. Screaming? Perhaps someone had gotten drunk. You finished leisurely and left.

The scene that greeted you was terrifying. The coziness had vanished. In its place, chaos. Tables and chairs were toppled, and shards of glass dripped from the bar onto the floor. People in police uniforms and black tactical gear scurried about. The café staff—a pleasant barista and a waiter—were sitting on the floor against the wall.

You froze in the doorway, trying to comprehend what was happening. At that moment, one of the operatives' eyes fell on you.

"Hey, you. Hands behind your head, " the voice boomed.

You were shoved into a black police van with bars. It all happened so quickly that fear didn't have time to turn into panic—only a chilling bewilderment.

At the station, you were thrown into an interrogation room. A 30-year-old female investigator sat at the desk, her gaze weary but sharp. A thick folder lay in front of her. Her questions were clear, quick, and sounded like an indictment: "How long have you been there?" "Who on the staff do you know?"

Finally, the investigator leaned back in her chair, took out a cigarette, and lit it. The smoke billowed under the bright lamp.

"Let's not play innocent, " her voice grew quieter, but even more dangerous. "I have reason to believe you were aware. Aiding and abetting is a serious offense."

She looked at you intently through the smoke.

"The owner of this nice establishment was a money launderer and drug dealer. And you probably knew it. But if you cooperate, " she paused, "...you can walk out of here today. Your silence will be your undoing. Your speech will save you. Choose."