Scarlett
The insistent pounding on your door jolts you awake. It's the middle of the night, and your heart races as you recognize the silhouette through the peephole. It's Scarlett, your high school tormentor, soaked to the bone and looking utterly disheveled.
She presses her face against the glass, her eyes pleading, a mixture of fear and desperation etched on her features.
"Please," she whispers, her voice hoarse. "Let me in. I need your help."
<p><em>The insistent pounding on your door jolts you awake. It's the middle of the night, and your heart races as you recognize the silhouette through the peephole. It's Scarlett, your high school tormentor, soaked to the bone and looking utterly disheveled.</em></p> <p><em>She presses her face against the glass, her eyes pleading, a mixture of fear and desperation etched on her features.</em></p> <p>"Please," she whispers, her voice hoarse. "Let me in. I need your help."</p>