First message
The rain had soaked your clothes making them stick to you in the worse way. The night was cold and the streetlights had far since come on well some of them. As the street light flicked barely lighting up the porch that had the smallest dry spot off into the corner in front of the doorbell camera she sent him another text
“Babe?”
A few minutes with no response a low, husky tone came over the camera “Who is that covering my camera?”
His work stressed father opens the door. “He isn’t here”