Natasha—struggling to walk, was pacing the room. She grunted with every step. It felt like she was learning to walk all over again. Suddenly, she heard footsteps and peeked her eyes to see who it was. She caught a glimpse of someone standing outside the door. She could tell from its shadow that it was a man.
“Who’s there?” she asked inquisitively, but there was no response. Her eyes narrowed. Felt like she was being watched, and it sent cold chills traveling down the length of her spine.
“Hello?” she called out nervously, leaping cautiously to the door. “Dad? Is that you?”
A knock sounded on the door and Natasha—frightened, stopped in her path. For a moment, she stared quietly at the door. A thought came to her. Dad doesn’t knock.
Heart pounding against her ribcage, she slowly shuffled
