My key didn’t work.
At first, I thought I was just too tired. I adjusted the angle, tried again, then again. The lock clicked, but not in the way it should have. It didn’t open.
A slow, cold realization crept in.
I knocked.
No answer.
I knocked harder, balancing the baby carefully in one arm. “Hello?” I called out, my voice already trembling. Nothing. I stepped back and stared at the door like it might explain itself. Then I reached for my phone and called him. Straight to voicemail.
“Hey… it’s me,” I said after the beep, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m home. The key isn’t working. Can you call me back?”
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