Landon
I squared my shoulders and knocked, the sound too loud in the quiet of her porch. A ridiculous thing to think about, knocking like a proper gentleman in the age of unlocked phones and doorbells, but I don’t do many ridiculous things. Not on purpose. Not lately.
The world pressed its breath in through the storm-slick streets behind me. Rain had left everything glossy; the house lights looked borrowed from some movie where two people meet and then life rearranges itself. I had told myself since the parking lot that whatever happened inside would be kept to civility. A volunteer, a neighborly drop-off, an evening of small talk and food. That was the plan.
The click of the deadbolt sounded like a cue. When the door eased open and she stepped into the doorway, the plan died a gentle,
