The ties that bind

"Ms. Montgomery, we need to talk."

The words sliced through the quiet morning air with chilling precision. Savannah Montgomery froze, her fingers stiffening around the ceramic mug of lukewarm coffee she'd been nursing for the past half hour. The voice came from the front door, sharp, professional, too formal to be good news.

She looked out the window beside her, a quiet street that seemed to mock her life's turmoil. The house was empty, quiet, except for the persistent thrum of her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

A sharp knock followed, louder this time, pulling her attention back to the present.

Who could it be?

It was too early for a solicitor or a salesman, and no one else had the nerve to knock this early in the morning unless there was something urgent. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the wall: 9:15 AM. She hadn't been expecting anyone, and her breath quickened as her mind raced.

The feeling hit her like a sudden wave, this wasn't a casual visit.

Taking a slow breath, Savannah set the mug down on the kitchen counter. Her throat felt tight, the familiar taste of anxiety creeping up on her. She quickly checked her reflection in the hallway mirror. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a loose bun, stray strands falling into her face, and her pale skin looked even paler than usual, as if she hadn't slept in days. She didn't have time to fix herself; the knock at the door was insistent, like something that could not be ignored.

Wiping her damp palms on her jeans, Savannah forced herself to approach the door. Her hand hesitated on the handle, but she gripped it tightly, unlocking the door with a soft click.

A tall man stood on her porch, a clipboard in one hand and a large envelope in the other. His suit was sharply pressed, too formal for the casual, suburban neighborhood she lived in. He looked like someone from the corporate world, but his gaze was cold, unmoved.

"Ms. Montgomery?" he asked again, his voice deeper this time, almost as if he had been expecting her to react with shock.

Savannah nodded, trying to calm the sudden wave of dread rising in her chest. "Yes... how can I help you?"

"I'm Richard Avery," the man introduced himself. "From Sterling & Blackwell Bank." He glanced down at the envelope in his hands, as though making sure it was the right one before handing it over to her. "I'm here to deliver a final notice of foreclosure for your property."

Savannah's stomach lurched. She hadn't been expecting this, not in the form it was coming. Her mind immediately flashed back to the numerous letters she had been avoiding, the final warnings, the calls from collections agencies she'd tried to ignore. But hearing the words, seeing them in front of her face, was something else entirely. It wasn't just a letter anymore. It was real. It was happening.

Her fingers shook as she took the envelope from him, feeling the weight of it. It was like a stone in her palm.

"What... what does this mean?" she managed, her voice wavering despite herself. She had to understand, even if she didn't want to. She had to know exactly how much danger she was in.

"It means that unless you settle the arrears within the next week, we will begin the foreclosure process," Avery said, his voice without empathy, his eyes still scanning the clipboard, as if his job were simply to deliver the message, not to care about the consequences.