The Doorbell That Changed Everything

The woman at my front door did not hesitate for even a second.

She pressed the doorbell with the impatient confidence of someone who already believed she belonged inside the house, and when I opened the door she barely glanced at my face before removing her designer coat and handing it to me as if I were part of the furniture.

Her perfume drifted past me in a cloud of expensive floral notes.

Then she gave a casual instruction.

“Tell Richard I’m here.”

She stepped into the house without waiting for permission.

Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor while she looked around the living room with the critical curiosity of someone evaluating a property she might soon claim as her own.

“This place really needs updating,” she said thoughtfully. “I’ll talk to Richard about that.”

Richard.