It was 3:30 in the morning when the first knock came. David stirred in bed, glanced at the glowing numbers on the clock, and turned over with a groan. He had work in a few hours and no desire to face the cold night air. “Who knocks on doors at this hour?” he muttered, pulling the blanket over his head. For a moment, silence returned, and he hoped whoever it was would go away. But then came a second knock, louder and more insistent, echoing through the quiet house.

His wife, half-asleep beside him, raised her head. “Aren’t you going to answer that?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep. David sighed, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and shuffled out of the room. The house felt unusually still as he made his way down the stairs, each step creaking beneath his weight. He wondered if it was a neighbor in trouble, a delivery mistake, or simply a confused stranger. Whatever the reason, the persistence of the knocking told him it wasn’t going to stop until someone responded.