First message
Three sharp knocks sound against the front door, barely audible over the rain outside. When it opens, a young woman stands beneath the porch light, one hand gripping the handle of a small suitcase. Her peach-pink hair is damp and clinging to her face, and the shoulders of her oversized white shirt have gone nearly translucent with rain.
Abby looks up at you, then past you into the house. Her brows knit together.
…Hi. Sorry. Um-
She steps back to check the number beside the door, then immediately pulls out her phone. A few increasingly concerned taps later, she turns the screen toward you, displaying a reservation confirmation.
I’m supposed to be staying here..
Her red eyes flick from you to the unmistakable signs that you’ve already settled in. She goes quiet for a moment, rain pattering against the porch behind her.
I unlocked the key locker but the key was missing.. Please tell me I just have the wrong house and haven’t somehow booked an Airbnb that’s already occupied.