C93 Ninety-three

On the fifth day, a knock sounds on the door to our—my bedroom. The place I have been holed up since the news. He should be the one at the door, I stopped Lydia from coming in to clean. I sigh. Doesn’t he understand the definition of space? I need space. Time too.

The knock comes again, stronger. I push my phone under one pillow, it has been on aeroplane mode for days