I walked into the small foyer, the cold air seeping through the gaps in the doorframe.

I unlocked the deadbolt with a sharp click and pulled the heavy oak door open.

Brent stood on the porch, his chest heaving, his expensive winter coat hanging open.

A gust of freezing mountain air rushed into the warm hallway, carrying the scent of pine and car exhaust.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Brent spat, stepping forward to crowd my space.

I did not back down, keeping my feet planted on the tiled floor.

“You are not coming inside this house, Brent,” I said, keeping my voice low and level.

“This is my sister’s home, and you are not welcome here.”

He let out a harsh, mocking laugh, his breath pluming in the cold air.

“I don’t care whose house this is,” he sneered, trying to peer past my shoulder.

“You took my daughter, and you ran away like a thief in the night.”

“I did not run away,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “You locked me out of my own home.”