After Claire’s husband passed away, life became a daily uphill climb. Grief hung over her like fog, and raising her young son Tim alone was both her purpose and her exhaustion. Between work, mounting bills, and a broken coffee maker that refused to brew anything but lukewarm hope, she was barely keeping it all together. Just as she began to find a fragile rhythm,
her world tilted once more. One quiet evening, after finally getting Tim to sleep, Claire heard footsteps in the hallway. Her heart pounded. She grabbed the only “weapon” nearby—a can of deodorant—and crept toward the noise, adrenaline surging. There, in the hallway, stood a stranger. Panicked but determined to protect her home,