"Poisoning? Terrorist attack? ISIS?" Mr. Chagas's face flushed red as he listened to Jack explain the situation. His gaze shifted between the two FBI agents and his daughter, unable to believe that his ordinary daughter could be associated with terrorism.
Now inside the house, Hannah sat on the living room sofa with Tara, who was still in shock. Jack glanced around; the living room was tidy and meticulously cleaned. It seemed that this single father wasn't the type to neglect his family due to work. Getting up early to make sure his daughter got to school on time only confirmed this.
Jack reconsidered his initial attitude, realizing he might have judged this father too harshly.
"Tara, who are they talking about? And how on earth did she get mixed up with ISIS? Tell the FBI everything—no hiding anything," Mr. Chagas's voice was rough, mixing anger with a clear undertone of fear and worry for his daughter.
"She was a new transfer student, a year older than me. We... we…" Tara stammered, looking blankly at the floor. She was clearly starting to understand the gravity of the situation.
Mr. Chagas's face grew an even darker shade of red, and the veins in his neck bulged as he realized his daughter was indeed involved in this. He looked like he might explode at any moment.
"How come you never mentioned her? You even…" He was about to yell further but was quickly restrained by Jack.
"Mr. Chagas, while your daughter is a minor, this case involves terrorism. We're allowing you to stay out of respect, but…" Jack's silent stare conveyed the rest of his message. Mr. Chagas took a deep breath, struggling to control his emotions.
"Tara, did Caroline ever mention the 'Dark Jihad' website?" Hannah asked gently.
"She's just a kid. She doesn't know anything. You don't understand—" Mr. Chagas interrupted as soon as he heard the word "Jihad," attempting to shield his daughter.
Jack held up his handcuffs. He could empathize with a parent wanting to protect their child, but they couldn't afford to let these two simply slip away. This was their only lead.
"Sir, you have two choices: stay here quietly, or accompany your daughter to an FBI interrogation room. This is the final warning. We don't intend to coerce anyone, and your daughter's involvement isn't too deep yet, but if you continue to interfere or lie to federal agents, I can't guarantee what will happen."
Sitting beside Tara, Hannah added sternly, "The FBI is investigating 'Dark Jihad.' Tracking the people who've visited that website is only a matter of time, so lying won't help. What matters now is stopping any future attacks and saving innocent lives."
Finally, after a mix of gentle words and firm warnings, Tara began to stammer, "It was Caroline who first found the 'Dark Jihad' website."
Jack and Hannah exchanged a glance, their faces brightening—this was a breakthrough.
"She told me it was a really cool place," Tara continued. "The people there were smart and kind, and they talked about things we'd been through."
"What sort of things?" Hannah asked gently.
Tara hesitated, glancing nervously at her anxious father. "Things like anxiety about dressing a certain way. If you dress fashionably, people call you a slut, even your parents question you. But if you dress the way you want, they say you're weird or fake."
"That does happen," Hannah nodded empathetically, as if recalling her own experiences.
With her perspective validated, Tara grew more confident and spoke more freely. "But on that site, every woman wears the same clothes. You don't have to worry about what to wear."
The three adults in the room looked at each other, puzzled. Had they missed something?
Jack thought it over, then asked, "Are you saying they all wear black robes and veils?"
"That's not what she meant!" Mr. Chagas tried to argue, but another glare from Jack made him step back.
"Yes, that's what I mean," Tara confirmed, looking at her father with a strange expression. He seemed too shocked to respond.
If someone had told him they planned to cut off their entire arm over a minor issue like a hangnail, he would've found it absurd. But now, seeing his own daughter being drawn into something as extreme as this, he felt nothing but horror.
"And I joined 'Dark Jihad' too, and started learning," Tara took a deep breath. In that moment, this plain, overweight girl seemed to radiate with a strange, unsettling confidence.
"What were you learning?" Hannah asked, frowning.
"How to prepare for the Middle East."
Mr. Chagas collapsed into a chair at the dining table, like a deflated balloon.
"To become an ISIS bride?" Jack had heard similar stories before—girls from Europe, the U.S., even North Africa, particularly from places like Morocco, lured and brainwashed, often young and impressionable. The term "bride" was nothing more than a euphemism. In reality, these girls were used as tools, sometimes married off in quick ceremonies, only to be widowed as their husbands strapped on explosives and left for attacks, leaving them to be "reused."
"Caroline and I planned to go together, but she's dead now. I don't understand…" Tara's voice trailed off, lost in thought.
"Who is this person? By now, you should realize you and Caroline were being used. Tell us his identity," Hannah urged, wanting to obtain the critical information as soon as possible.
"His username was 'Greenbird.' He first met Caroline on the website, and then they started chatting through another app. Caroline said he had a plan, that she'd help him carry it out, and then she'd be able to leave the country."
Tara's explanation was vague, and Jack suspected she knew Caroline intended to poison people, especially given yesterday's news reports. Clearly, she hadn't been too bothered by the innocent lives lost—until the FBI showed up at her door.
But now was not the time for accountability; they urgently needed more intelligence.
"You've spoken to 'Greenbird' too, haven't you? Tell us everything you know," Jack said, keeping one hand on Mr. Chagas's shoulder as a silent warning while he continued questioning Tara.
"We talked about everything. He's very smart, like he understands what I'm thinking. He cares about me," Tara's face flushed, and her eyes shone with a trace of infatuation as she spoke of him.
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