Part of me wanted to turn around and walk away. Go back to Clara, eat whatever we had in our bags in silence, avoid this.
But I'd already agreed.
So I climbed the three steps to the porch, raised my hand, and knocked twice on the door.
The voices inside went quiet for a heartbeat.
Then footsteps approached, quick and light, and the door swung open to reveal Shannon's grinning face.
"Ryan! You actually came!" She said, like there had been real doubt. "Come in, come in! Mom's almost done cooking and it smells amazing!"
She stepped back, pulling the door wide, and I crossed the threshold into their home.
The door closed behind me with a soft click, sealing me inside warmth and the smell of cooked fish and the strange, fragile domesticity that somehow still existed at the end of the world.
