Namara's POV:

Reaching the front door, I paused for a second on the wide porch, the familiar scent of jasmine from the hanging planters mixing with the late afternoon air. As expected, Dad still hadn’t installed any modern technology here, no keypad, no fingerprint scanner, and no smart lock that could read my phone from ten feet away.

He’d always said the doorbell worked just fine and that people should announce themselves properly.

‘Old-fashioned to the core.’ I muttered under ...