(Esther’s Point of View)
The knock on the door stayed in the air long after the sound faded.
Matthew and I stood still, facing each other, neither of us moving. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it might break through my chest. I did not know who was on the other side, but I knew one thing. Whatever waited there would force us to choose. Not later. Not someday. Now.
Matthew walked past me and reached for the door. His shoulders were tense, but his steps were steady. I watched his back, wondering how many times I had stood like this before, watching him walk toward danger while I stayed behind, holding my breath.
He opened the door.
A man stood there, not young, not old, dressed simply. No suit. No sharp smile. Just tired eyes.
“Matthew King,” the man said quietly.
“Yes,” Mat
