Not the kind of knock that asks politely for entry. The kind that demands it.

Through the rain-smeared window, you caught a glimpse of silhouettes huddled on your porch. Too many of them. Adults and kids alike, all drenched to the bone.

You barely had time to turn the lock before the door burst inward.

You stood there, tea still warm in your hand, watching as they pressed themselves against the walls, peering through your blinds, catching their breath like they'd just run a marathon from something that was still chasing them.

And then you saw her.