Part 1: The Night I Opened the Door

was relentless, pounding against the windows so hard it blurred the streetlights into watery smears. Thunder rolled low and heavy, rattling the glass. I remember standing in my small kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, thinking about nothing more important than a quiet cup of tea before bed.

Then I heard it.

A knock.

At first, it was so faint I almost continue reading …