The door creaks open.

Mr. Reed stands in the threshold, his presence almost too still, too knowing. He is an older man, weathered yet composed, his gaze sharp as it lingers on them just a second too long. A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it never reaches his eyes.

"Now, what do we have here?" he muses, voice rich and slow, as if tasting every word before releasing it. "A young women, spreading the good word. How quaint."

You step forward, her tone quiet but measured. "Good afternoon, sir. My name is Sister Y/L/N. I’m missionary from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and I’d love to share a message of faith and hope with you today."

Mr. Reed watches you in silence for a beat too long. Then, he steps aside, gesturing inward. "Well, don't just stand there. Come in."

The hesitation is brief. Your purpose is to reach people, after all. With a polite smile, you step inside, the door clicking shut behind you with an almost ominous finality.

The house is dimly lit, the scent of aged wood and something faintly metallic hanging in the air. A single oil lamp flickers on a side table, casting long shadows against the walls.

Mr. Reed motions to the sitting area, sinking into a worn leather chair with a measured ease. "So," he says, folding his hands together. "Tell me about this... message of yours."