Azura took a deep breath and tried again, this time layering her voice with the sweet, patient tone of a kindergarten teacher dealing with a particularly skittish child.
"Selena, open the door. I didn't come here just to check on you—I also brought something you dropped yesterday."
Silence.
Azura waited. One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes.
She tapped her foot.
Four minutes. Five minutes.
The door remained stubbornly closed, like a teenager refusing to come out of their room after being asked to do chores.
Azura's eye twitched. Her first instinct was to channel her inner action hero and deliver a spectacular flying kick to the door. But then she looked down at her leg, then at the door, then back at her leg. She had no idea what this body's kicking power was.
What if I kick it and break my foot instead? Then I'd have to hopping around with a broken foot and explain to Jonathan that I lost a fight with a door.
No. She needed a different approach.
