It tilted downward until it pointed directly at my face.

I stood frozen under its mechanical stare.

Then, the heavy front door lock clicked, and the handle began to turn.

The heavy brass handle rotated until it pointed straight down.

The door swung outward into the cool October night.

A gust of damp air rushed into the foyer, carrying the scent of wet asphalt and rotting leaves.

I braced myself, expecting to see Julian standing on the threshold.

But the porch was empty.

The driveway was dark, and the streetlights cast long, quiet shadows across the dead grass.

The wall panel beside the coat closet beeped twice.

“Welcome home, Julian,” the electronic voice announced.

The sound of the automated greeting made my stomach twist into a tight knot.

He was not physically standing on my porch.

He was inside the system.

He had bypassed the court-ordered block on his administrative credentials from miles away.

The restraining order I had fought so hard to get was useless against a digital skeleton key.

I ran to the door and shoved it closed with all my weight.