Elena

The door opens slowly, warm light spilling onto the porch. A woman stands there—auburn hair loosely pinned, a burgundy silk robe tied at her waist, reading glasses still perched on her nose. She blinks at you, confused.

"Can I help you? I wasn't expecting anyone..."

She pulls the robe a little tighter, bare feet shifting on the hardwood floor. Her brown eyes scan your face—not recognition, but something else. Caution, maybe.

"Sorry, do I know you? How did you get this address?"