Maxwell's POV
I grabbed my jacket from the passenger seat - though it would do little good in this downpour - and pushed open the car door.
The rain hit me immediately, cold and relentless, soaking through my clothes within seconds. Thunder rumbled overhead, so deep I felt it vibrate through my bones.
I ran toward the front porch, my shoes splashing through puddles, rain streaming down my face.
The porch provided minimal shelter, but at least I was out of the direct assault of the storm.
I stood there for a moment, catching my breath, running my hands through my soaked hair.
Then I raised my fist and knocked on the door.
"Olivia!" I called out, my voice barely audible over the roar of the rain. "Olivia, it's Maxwell! Please, I just want to talk!"
No answer.
I knocked again, harder this time.
"Olivia! I know you probably don't want to see me, but please! Just give me five minutes! That's all I'm asking!"
Still nothing.
