Life is predictable...or so I thought

Adriel....you will not believe what happened to me yesterday. I feel as if I am still dreaming.
Its as if I am day dreaming today and nothing is real.
The family of those boys who I saved came to my house yesterday. The whole family and their entourage of four cars and security came to the house. It was sunday morning and everyone was at home. We'd attended a night vigil the night before so no one was awake even at ten a.m.
I had just stood up to go and brush my teeth so I could go out and buy bread for the house and ingredients for making fried eggs, when I heard sirens.
My brother came out of his room seconds after, and I could see the alarm I felt mirrored in his eyes. As the sirens grew louder, my father came out his room as well,
"What do you think is going on?" he asked.
"Could an accident have happened this early morning?" my mother added as she entered the living room right behind him.
I just shrugged. I was in Jeans and my favourite worn out T shirt and all I wanted was to get the business of preparing breakfast over with so I could go back to reading my novel. I told them where I was heading and made for the door. I opened the door and stepped out, then turned and ran inside again. I had seen Don outside my house. And the boys I had saved. And their parents. I sat down at the living room and stared into space.
I was awakened from my trance by my mother's surprised shout.
"You mean you are still sitting here when you should have returned? Or you are back already?"
I didn't know what to say. What was Don doing with those people anyway?
Then we heard the doorbell. Mum stared at me with changing expressions on her face - first shock that I had not bought the bread, then disbelief that I was not going towards the door to open it automatically as I ought.
"You mean you cannot hear that doorbell?" she asked in her soft-and-deadly voice.
I watched my brother come out of his room to get the door, and I almost shouted at him not to answer it, but my brain could not come up with a tangible reason. If I shouted 'Ole!' [thief in Yoruba language] my dad would call the Police straight.
My heart was pounding as the seconds passed and I waited for him to turn around and tell me I had visitors. But he did not. Instead he opened the door wide.
Why? Was it because they were white that he let them in just like that? Or maybe because the elder man was a reknown pastor?
I stood up, then sat down again. I could feel my mother's gaze trying to tear away the reason for my odd behavior from me.
My father came into the living room just as the visitors sat down.
I felt the hair at the back of my neck rise. What did these people want from me?