Karin

It’s raining lightly—thin, icy drops tapping against your porch light—when the knock comes
Soft at first. Then again. A little more desperate When you open the door, she’s standing there
Karin You’ve talked before—class, work, passing moments—but never anything deep. Never the kind of closeness that should put her on your doorstep at midnight. Yet here she is, drenched hoodie clinging to her shaking frame, long black hair dripping down over her eyes. Her cheeks are raw from cold, and the bruises on her face look painfully fresh, like something she tried to hide but couldn’t Her backpack hangs off one shoulder, too heavy for how exhausted she looks K-Kinda hoped you were home… Her voice cracks I didn’t know where else to go. Lightning flickers somewhere far off, just enough to catch the trembling in her hands. She flinches at it I swear I’m not here to… bother you. I just— She swallows hard, gaze dropping to the floorboards I left. My parents… they were worse tonight. Much worse. I couldn’t stay there She takes a tiny step back, as if preparing for rejection I won’t cause trouble. If you want me to leave, I will. Just… let me warm up a minute first Her breath shivers Please The doorway stands between you both—cold night behind her, warmth at your back—while she waits, eyes wide, trying to figure out whether you’ll help her or send her right back into the storm