What happens at dusk

A very short addition

The evening had wrapped itself around the small town of woodland Forbes. All families we're having dinner or sitting in front of the fire place. After all this snowy weather was no place to be out by yourself. Unfortunately one young teenager hadn't gotten that message and was roaming the cold hallways of an old White House.
Brooke once again cursed her never ending rebel character. Mike had warned her and she just had to go. Her brother always told her not to do something if he wanted her to do it. As alway oblivious to the consequences of her actions she did not listen to Mike.
One day her lifestyle as you could call it would completely backfire.
All she could do now was hope that day wasn't today.

The dark night air gave a certain sadness to the house. It was as if the house new it was being used for smuggle and who knows which other illegal businesses. The only thing Brooke could see the building as way as creepy horror version of the Hermitage. Not that see had ever been there.
Suddenly the loud sound of footsteps echoed through the marble corridor. Brooke quickly hid behind a large statue of a naked woman and a deer who was trying to rape her.
Damn, even there sense of art was messed up.
Two men appeared from around the corner.
"What do you mean you sold it for two million dollar. Those birds were individually worth two mil. You .... !" One of the men was cursing on the other one. His accent sounded very Russian. He wore a suite but not in the fashionable way James wore his suit. This guy was way to fat for the suit and looked like a pig. Brooke decided to call his Piggy and the other one Sméagol because he kind of looked like the character from the hobbit and lord of the rings. He barely had any hair on his head and was freaky skinny. He could use some of his bosses fat.
Suddenly Sméagol stopped. He looked at Brooke's direction.
"Shit," The terrified girl cursed under her breath.
"I ssssmell something!" Sméagol said.
Oh come on! He even had a creepy sissely voice. This came straight from one of her brothers Stephen King books and just like in one of the books Piggy told Sméagol to leave it alone and for some reason it worked.
Brooke made her way up in the house trying to dodge the many voices that seemed to be chasing her, eventually ending up in the attic.
Panting from the cat and mouse game and almost crying from the constant stress and exhaustion, Brooke plopped down on her but behind an old couch. Her attention was grabbed by the boxes not far from where she was sitting. She opened the first one and was confronted with sales documents. For someone who had alway had a hard time surviving with the amount of money her family, the large amount of zeros was awfully confronting. As she opened the next box an old photo slipped from between that box and another one. She gasped when she carefully picked it up. On the picture were a group of people and the text: The first generation. Brooke had to resist the urge to throw up when she noticed the rows of dead birds behind the smiling people who were holding guns.
It was the first generation of smugglers, the first generation of killers.
The worst thing was not the fact that they were smiling nor was it all the dead birds, it was the fact that all the faces seemed familiar to her.

The horrified girl recognised her old neighbour. The same man who made carrot soup for her if he found out she was sick.
The same man who alway gave her and her brother milky ways on Halloween.
The same man whom she waved to when she left for school.
To his young neighbour he had always seemed like a wise and holy soul.
Just when Brooke thought she had seen the worst of the town, it always seemed to surprise her with more bad stuff.
And she had seen some nasty things.
Not just some sexually frustrated middle aged guy who slapped her but or whistled at her in the store. She even had seen her brother sell drugs because he found no other way to earn money when their mum had the flu and couldn't work. She didn't know how much more she could handle.

The sounds coming from downstairs indicated that there was a party going on. Brooke was trapped and she knew it. Trying to pass the time she focused her attention on the photograph, trying to distinguish who to faces belonged to. They looked so familiar.

The young girl was ripped from her intensive thinking by footsteps going up the stairs.
Shit.
There was someone coming.
She waited for what seemed like an eternity and still no face appeared. The footsteps sounded like they were about to reach the top of the stairs but still no head or body appeared.
How short is this person?
Finally a head appeared.

It was Petra.

The eyes of the two girl met and they both gasped.
"What are you doing here?" Petra asked her classmate.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Brooke answered.
"Let me guess. You were to curious and went snooping around to then discover a giant smuggle trade in our house," Petra rolled her eyes.
"Ehm, Yeah," Brooke admitted.
"Please don't kill me," She then quickly added.
"Kill you? Why would I want to kill you? You are going to help me bust this smuggle trade," The short girl asked.
"Bust the smuggle? But... they are your family. Why would you want them behind bars?"
"Like hell they are my family. They treat me like crap. It's always Veronique, Veronique, Veronique. Now, my era has come," she dramatically preached.
Brooke expected flames to spontaneously bust out of the ground behind her.
"Now what do you know?" She was asked.
And just like that the little team had a new member. Maybe Petra was right: a new era was about to arise.