The doorbell rang.
Lory rose from the porch and, as usual, checked the security screen before responding. The moment the image appeared, she paused. Her head tilted slightly, as if considering something amusing, and the corner of her lips curved into a faint smile.
Without hesitation, she pressed the button to open the gate. Her footsteps toward the front door were steady and unhurried. The night remained quiet as she reached the entrance and opened it.
"Who might you be?" Lory asked gently.
A young girl stood before her, trembling. Her hair was disheveled, her lips split and bleeding, the bruises vivid against pale skin. She looked up at Lory with pleading eyes.
