Then the knocking came again.
Even louder.
Not friendly. Not patient.
Whoever stood outside clearly expected the door to open immediately.
My heart began racing as I sat up. The floor was cold against my bare feet as I stood. I grabbed the nearest sweatshirt and pulled it on quickly. The apartment was quiet except for the gentle humming of the refrigerator, a sound I usually found calming. In that moment, it felt like background noise to something bigger that was about to happen.
Still half-asleep, I walked down the narrow hallway, trying to think of who it could be. Maybe a delivery. Maybe maintenance. Maybe someone at the wrong apartment.