[ WP ] You found out that your wife is a secret agent that was ordered to protect you because your offspring would become the saviour of mankind .

I stared at the woman I thought I knew. My wife held our daughter Lisa in one hand and an AK47 in the other, the sour smell of fired guns, wholly foreign to me, wafting through the room. The smell mixed with the fresh chocolate chip cookies my wife took out of the oven twenty minutes ago and my mind could only relate it to sour milk and cookies. 
 
 Jennifer smiled sheepishly, as if I had caught my lactose intolerant wife with a pint of Ben and Jerry ’ s instead of a semi-automatic assault rifle. 
 
 “ You can eat dairy, can ’ t you!? ” I blurted incredulously. I realized how stupid that was as my first outburst given the circumstances; black clad assassins in balaclavas lay around the floor, the coffee table shattered, and our Ansel Adams photography book amidst the broken glass. But, it was what my brain could grasp at this moment. 
 
 My wife looked rather shocked and then amused at my outburst, but immediately contained her expression. She lay down the rifle on the brown wing chair in the corner of our living room and walked toward me with our daughter. The baby girl continued to wail at the previous disturbance of gunfire, shattered glass and shouting, unable to vocalise the source of her discomfort. I acutely sympathized with her as I felt my emotional confusion overwhelm me and, for the first time since our wedding and daughter ’ s birth, tears began to form behind my eyes. My anger and confusion quickly suppressed them. 
 
 Jennifer took a few steps forward and before I knew it, Lisa was in my arms and instincts took over. I started shushing her, walking back and forth and rubbing her back. 
 
 “ Peter, I am sorry, ” Jennifer said. 
 
 “ What do you…how did you - who are you!? ” I demanded. 
 
 Lisa continued wailing into my shoulder, her little face red and scrunched up, her ten tiny fingers balled into two angry fists. Her tiny golden wisps of hair matched my wife ’ s and I started pacing back and forth, glass crunching under my feet, an assassin ’ s combat booted foot a few feet away from my path. Lisa calmed a bit, her wails no longer piercing my ear drums. 
 
 “ Peter, let me explain— ” 
 
 I stopped pacing sharply and my focus turned from our baby girl to my wife. “ Oh, please do, ” I whispered. Lisa immediately widened her gummed mouth and projected a cry so loud we both flinched. I immediately recognized my error and continued pacing yet again. 
 
 Jennifer sat slowly on the chair, her eyes cast lower to the floor in what I would have previously recognized as contriteness. “ My name is Lucy and I ’ m an intelligence agent. I was assigned to protect you and your child. ” 
 
 “ But when we met I had no— ” 
 
 I blinked at her in the silence and her eyes - those blue eyes I remember was the first thing I noticed about her when we met - struck me that they were the sole truth I knew about the woman I thought my wife.
