C111 The Visitor

The knock came on a Wednesday, three weeks after Damien moved in.

Isabella was in the kitchen, baking bread with Lily, when she heard it, soft, hesitant, almost apologetic. She wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the front door, her heart already racing.

A woman stood on the porch.

She was older, maybe sixty, with silver hair and kind eyes. She was wearing a simple dress, no jewelry