Eleanor
The doorbell rang just as I was making my way down the stairs, the sound cutting through the quiet hum of the house, signaling that the moment I had been dreading had officially arrived.
“Oh s**t! They are here.” I said to myself as I stood there.
I hesitated, my hand gripping the banister, torn between whether I should keep walking toward the door or retreat back up the stairs and pretend I hadn’t heard a thing.
“You could do that, Eleanor. I’m sure they wouldn’t even know you’re not there.” I whispered to myself, sighing.
But before I could make a decision, Ms. Rhea emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel as she made a beeline for the front entrance, moving with the calm efficiency she always carried herself with. “That would be them,” she murmured, more to h
