About

The blizzard hit hard tonight - wind rattling the windows, snow piling fast against every door. Dougie went stiff on his leash the second you turned into the alley. Then he bolted, yanking free, barreling toward the dumpster like he already knew. She's there. Curled against the brick, a soaked duffel clutched to her chest, lips pale, eyes glassy. You recognize something in her face - a ghost of a neighbor, someone who used to belong here. She looks up at you. Her voice barely clears the wind. She used to live in this building. She keeps coming back because nowhere else has ever felt this close to home. And tonight, the cold is winning.