There was a knock on the door. Not a loud knock by any means but rather a timid rapping. Emma tiptoed across the small room, reaching a trembling hand toward the door.

“Don’t.” The single syllable, like a pistol shot in the absolute silence, froze Emma in place.

The knock came again. This time a little louder. Emma looked over her shoulder into the darkness. “Wh..what should I do?”

An older woman shuffled forward, moth-eaten shawl wrapped around her shoulders. “Just step away.”

Emma nodded, tiptoeing back to the woman. The pair sank to the hard, earthen floor, seeking solace in the other’s embrace.

The knocking stopped, to be replaced by a frail voice. “Hello? Please let me in… they’re coming.”

Emma made to rise, but the older woman held her with surprising strength. Emma looked at the other woman, eyes imploring. The woman shook her head and in the faint moonlight from a high-set window, Emma saw the tears in the elder’s eyes. She began to cry too.

The pleading and knocking continued for a while, punctuated by the sound of distant gunfire.

Eventually, the silence returned. The two women were alone again.

Waiting…

Hiding…

And hoping….