Anyta
The knock on the door echoed around the house like thunder. It was not the soft, nervous kind of knock that neighbors used whenever they needed something. It was firm and unrelenting —like one who had come with firm purpose, one who would not leave until the door was opened.
I froze, still holding the curtain in my hand. Clay's head turned towards the door, his jaw tightening as though he expected trouble.
We simply didn't move for a moment. The silence held long enough for the knock to ring again, even louder.
My chest pounded slowly. "Who could that be?" I whispered.
Clay remained behind in silence. He moved forward, his shoulders set like a warrior going into battle. "Stay behind me," he ordered bluntly. "Don't open the door until we find out who's on the other side.".
I wan
