Letter from Katherine to Paul Buher

Gene closed the door behind him and walked inside the house. He immediately felt the familiar coziness that reigned in his family's home. But this time the atmosphere was a little unusual - in a small room, which was located next to the main entrance, three men were sitting at a table, who looked a little out of place. All three were dressed in formal but unremarkable suits, and they looked as if they had just come from another world, not fitting the standards of Gene's everyday life.

The first man was thin, with clear glasses on his nose. His age could be estimated at forty to forty-five years. He sat up straight, with a concentrated expression on his face, as if he was trying to remember every detail of what was happening around him. The second man was much older - gray-haired, very fat and with a good-natured expression on his face, which seemed as if he was genuinely glad to be there. The third man, young, but with some kind of tense aura, was holding a large bag in his arms, clutching it tightly, as if it was not just a bag, but something that needed to be protected at all costs.

Gene paused in the doorway, looking at his guests curiously, but with the same calm expression on his face that was always characteristic of him in such situations. He looked at Delia, who seemed to be beginning to realize that something was wrong, but was too young to ask questions. Gene exhaled and stepped toward the men.

"Greetings," he said, coming closer. "How can I help you?"

A thin man, apparently the eldest of the three, stood up and stepped toward him.

"Good afternoon," he began politely, but with some hidden determination in his voice. "We are Jehovah's Witnesses, and we urgently need to discuss important matters. Unfortunately, our car broke down somewhere on the highway, and we were forced to walk through the forest until we found your house. We hope that you can help us, at least for a while."

Gene narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to understand what was happening, but despite the unusual situation, he did not look alarmed. He was a man who was used to everything unexpected.

"You said your car broke down?" he asked, trying to catch the details. "Where exactly? Is there anything we can do to help you?"

The man in glasses nodded and continued:

"We were on our way from New York, rushing to do some business, and unfortunately, we got into an unpleasant situation. The car didn't let us down, but the tire went flat, and when we stopped, it turned out that something even more serious had happened. In general, we didn't expect to end up in the forest, and then... Everything just didn't go as planned."

The same fat man, gray-haired and kind-looking, also sighed, as if he was considering whether to intervene, but eventually added:

"We would be grateful if we could spend the night with you. The problem is that we can't wait too long - we need to move on as soon as we can. We have an important meeting tomorrow, and we can't afford to be late.

Gene looked again at his daughter, who stood in the doorway, listening intently to the conversation. He felt that perhaps he had to make a decision, and he did so, carefully considering each word.

"Of course," he said after a pause. "Please come into the living room. We'll do everything we can to make sure you can rest."

Delia, who was standing nearby, looked at the men curiously, but did not dare to intervene in the conversation. She noticed that the man with the bag, although silent, held it almost as if it were a valuable thing, and this caught her attention.

As the men walked inside, Gene invited them to sit down and offered them tea. Delia went back to her room but stayed to eavesdrop on the conversation, sensing that these men were somehow connected to what her father hadn't told her. She wondered why they couldn't just tow a truck or call the highway department. She was too young to understand that they simply needed to hide and remain unnoticed.

Time passed and Gene returned to the table, smiling at his guests and trying to create a calm atmosphere in which they could recuperate.

"We'll try to help you with the car," he said. "But keep in mind that there aren't many places to get help in this area. We're not in the very center of town, and these things are often complicated."

The man with glasses nodded, and the three of them sat down at the table, waiting for further decisions.

"Thank you," he said, and it sounded sincere despite the underlying tension in the air.

When Karen, Gene's wife and Delia's mother, approached the table, the atmosphere in the room changed. She was tall, with bright red hair that she always styled carefully, and a light but confident gait. In her hands was a carefully folded letter, tied with a tight string. She addressed the men standing at the table with a warm, but also slightly wary smile.

"Here, for you," she said, holding out the letter. "It's from Katherine. She asked me to deliver it personally to the first Jehovah's Witnesses who show up on our doorstep."

The men looked up in surprise, and their reaction was immediate. The thin man with glasses, apparently the eldest among them, first looked at the letter in confusion, and then turned his gaze to Karen, as if not quite understanding what was happening.

"Which Katherine?" he asked, tilting his head. "Why is she writing to us?"

Karen nodded stiffly, her eyes sparkling but the same calm smile remaining on her face.

"This is my aunt, she is a famous politician," she explained. "She asked me to convey this letter only to you, as representatives of your community."

At this moment the second man, grey-haired and fat, leaned towards his comrade, who was sitting next to him, and, quietly whispering, added:

"Have you heard anything about Katherine? I know she had a lot of influence on politics. They say she's very close to high places. It could be... important."