Samantha paused, her finger just inches from the doorbell. She glanced down to the small, bloodied sliver of metal in her palm, stuffing it into her pocket. Her attention then turned back to the doorbell.

An aging woman opened the door just a crack, a cup of coffee in her grasp. "Who is it?" she yawned, taking a sip from her cup.

"Samantha."

The woman choked on her coffee. "Samantha? I thought you--"

"I came back, mom."