We all stare at the door as the stone knocks on the metal with all its 2-ounce might. It looks so cozy. A plank with “Home” painted in bold white leans against the entry. A seasonal wreath hangs on the door.

A picture crosses my mind. My mother, healthy and happy, working for Dolus all these years in this suburban home. Not strapped to anything, not a husk of herself, just living a somewhat boring life and selling her blood to vampires regularly.

My heart ...