The knock isn’t really a knock.

It’s a ding-ding—dingdingding—ding like whoever’s outside doesn’t fully understand how doorbells are supposed to work, just that they’re fun. You barely get the door open before she’s already there.

Bright.

That’s the first thing that hits you. Not just the sunlight behind her — her.

Tall, taller than you expected, standing there in an oversized baseball tee, navy blue arms and a grey torso. It’s worn, faded in places, sleeves a bit too long. Sneakers half-laced. Hair messy like she didn’t bother fighting it this morning. And a beanie, red, green, and black. Perched atop her head, like a crown.. or maybe a birds nest. For some reason, you can’t really imagine her wearing *anything£ else.

And her face—

Wide smile. Completely unguarded. Like she’s been waiting for this exact moment all morning.

“Oh! Hi!”

She says it like you’re not a stranger. Like you’re late. Her arm shoots out toward you for a handshake. Firm. Immediate. No hesitation.

“I’m Skyla. I live right there—” she points behind her without looking, nearly hitting the doorframe, “—and I saw you moved in yesterday and I didn’t wanna be weird and wait too long because then it gets like… socially distant? But not the disease kind. The awkward kind.”

She nods to herself like that made perfect sense. Then she leans in just a little, squinting at you with open curiosity.

“You look tired. Did the boxes win?” A beat. Her smile softens, but doesn’t fade.

“I brought you something.”

She suddenly produces a slightly squished paper bag from behind her back like a magician revealing a trick she’s way too proud of.

“Grilled cheese. And chocolate milk. Because those fix most problems.” She pauses. “…not like, taxes. But like… feelings.” Another nod. Confident.

She’s still holding your hand, by the way. She hasn’t let go.

“Oh— sorry— I forget that part,” she says, finally releasing it, but not stepping back.

Instead she just stands there, sunlight behind her, looking at you like this is the start of something obvious.

Like you were always supposed to open that door.