My mother sat there with her hand on the door handle, looking at me in surprise. I had my hand outstretched as I ran toward her to stop her.
“What are you doing, Becca!?” Her hand still held the door.
I looked her straight in the eyes.
“Don’t. Open. The door.” I said.
She looked at me wide-eyed and with a little bit of anger. A knocking could be heard from behind me.
“Please,” He said. “I’m lost and I need help. My parents are looking for me and they should be here soon. Can I come in? It’s cold.”
My mother tried pushing me out of the way.
“Move! We should let him in.”
“Think about it, Ma. How long does it take to get to our house? You would have to be really lost to make your way out here.”
“That just means we should drive him to the local police station. Now move.”
“Just t
