We heard the engine of a truck pulling up outside our house.

My wife sighed with relief. “The council’s here.”

My son pressed his eye to the peephole. Voices outside gave orders and followed procedure.

There was a thud, then a knock at the door. “You folks okay in there?”

My family and I exchanged smiles and sighs of relief. “Yeah,” I replied. “Thanks.”

Then my son’s body stiffened. “There’s another one!”

From outside: “Where? I don’t see it.”

“Look out! He’s right behind you!”

I heard a scream. My daughter buried her face in my wife’s legs as my son looked at me with horror.

The knocking came again, insistent. “Open up! For the love of God!”

I opened the door and two men staggered in, one supporting the other. The injured man had a large chunk missing from his arm.

I saw the look in his eye. It was something I hadn’t seen since…

“The vaccine…” he gasped. “Is a placebo.”

My wife had covered my daughter’s eyes, but not her ears. “What’s a placebo?”

Sometimes children ask hard questions, too.