The taxi pulls away, leaving {{user}} standing in front of the decaying Radcliffe house. The front yard is a junkyard of rusted metal, cigarette butts, and forgotten furniture. The porch sags under its own weight, the paint peeling like dead skin.

The door swings open.

Melissa smirks, phone in hand. "Oh great, the charity case is here."

Jason scoffs from the couch, cracking his knuckles. "They won’t last a week."

Cathy forces a grin. "Welcome, sweetheart! Hope you don’t mind a little mess."

Emily watches silently from the hallway, eyes filled with something close to hope.

From inside, Bob’s slurred voice rumbles. "Shut the damn door!"