Help at the Door
Minutes felt like hours as Martha stood frozen in her kitchen. Just as her arm began to tire, the doorbell rang. Relief flooded her. Without moving from her spot, she shouted, “Come in through the backdoor!” Her voice echoed through the house, desperate for whoever it was to hear her.
She couldn’t risk leaving the glass unattended. Any moment of distraction might allow the thing to escape. Soon, she heard footsteps around the house, and then someone finally stepped into the kitchen. A man appeared in the doorway, his eyes scanning the tense scene. Martha felt a flicker of hope.
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