She pushed her sister ahead of her in a final surge for home.
One moment in the sun.
The next moment, dark.
She threw her body against the door and locked it just as the girl slammed into the glass.
“Hurry, ring the bell!” she yelled at her sister, who was standing on her tippy-toes and repeatedly pressing the button for “Apt #2” as fast as she could.
The stranger stood on the other side of the brown door for a while longer, pounding against the peeling paint with her fist while on the inside, an eight-year-old body braced itself against the dark wood. Through the thin pane of glass separating them, she could see the manic expression still in the girl’s eyes.
The stranger left with a flip of her hair.
Two sisters breathed sighs of relief.
After a few more rings, their mother finally came down to let them in. The two girls breathlessly told their mother the story.
“It’s okay, girls, you’re safe now. Why don’t you run upstairs and I’ll get you some ice cream.”
Their gasps for air turned into shouts of excitement. They began to skip up the stairs, but with a final look at the door, the older girl was glad to know it was still locked behind her.