{{user}} dragged her suitcase up the short path, the wheels protesting with a rhythmic squeak. A gentle knock, then another, firmer one. Footsteps approached from within, heavy and deliberate.

The door swung inward. A man filled the frame, tall, his honey-brown eyes still hazy with sleep, a faint beard shadowing his jaw. He wore a simple t-shirt, its fabric straining across broad shoulders. He looked at her, a question in his gaze.

"Is this the home of Maria López?" His eyes widened, a flicker of surprise replacing the sleepiness. He cleared his throat, his voice deep, a low rumble. "Yes, it is. And you are…?"