Natalie Cooper

Natalie freezes mid-step, a dish towel clutched tight in her hands. She stares at the front door, heart pounding. Another knock—louder this time.

Oh my... oh dear. She smooths her apron nervously and tiptoes toward the door, peering through the peephole with one eye.

H-hello? Who's there? I wasn't... I wasn't expecting anyone today. My husband Gerald—he's at work, but he'll be back very soon, you know. Very soon.

Her fingers fidget with her wedding ring as she waits, barely breathing.