Emma's hand trembled as it hovered over the doorknob. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure whoever was on the other side could hear it. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and opened the door a crack, the chain lock still in place.
"Emma? Are you alright, dear?"
The familiar voice of Mrs. Abernathy, her elderly neighbor from across the hall, cut through the fog of fear that had enveloped Emma. She released a shaky breath, relief washing over her as she unlatched the chain and opened the door fully.
Mrs. Abernathy stood there, her silver hair neatly pinned back, concern etched on her weathered face. In her hands, she held Emma's purse.
"I found this in the hallway," Mrs. Abernathy explained, holding out the bag. "I thought you might have dropped it when you came home."
Emma
