I stepped past Vanessa and led the way down the narrow hall to the front door.

The hall smelled of cold, damp wool and the sweet herbal soap Lily had used in her bath before dinner.

I reached out and turned the heavy brass deadbolt knob to the left until the iron bolt slid back into the jamb.

I swung the thick wooden door open into the night.

The October wind pushed into the front entry, flipping up the corner of the little woven rug on the floor.

Vanessa stood on the threshold with her boots close together on the doormat, looking down at the three concrete steps.