Tjah, mijn verhaal - Tweede deel

There is a man. He wears black, a black suit. He has this earphone thing in one ear, just like the FBI has in the movies. He tries to look friendly, though I can see that he's worried. "Hello, what is your name? “ is what he asks when I open the door. "Gina Devos." "Date of birth and spell your last name, please?" "Twenty-eighth of December 1990 and D-E-V-O-S," is my response: “and you are?" "That doesn't matter. Can I come in?" "No." "Why not?” he asks me surprised. "Cause I don't trust you." "Oh, hi," says my mom, coming out the living room: “Come in." Sigh. "You need to pack your bags,” says the man, as soon as he sits down in the living room:” pack your valuable things, clothes..." "Excuse me, but why?” I interrupt him. "Can't tell you here. Just make sure you're packed for a long journey. I'll tell you everything, but we gotta catch a plane first."