\nWhen a cranky old man slams the door on a persistent teenager, he assumes that\u2019s the last he\u2019ll see of her. But when a hurricane traps them together, the storm outside uncovers a shocking link to his past\u2014and forces them both to face truths they\u2019d rather avoid.\n
Frank had grown accustomed to living alone. The solitude suited him, and he\u2019d long since come to terms with the absence of friends or family. So when a knock echoed through his quiet house on a Saturday morning, irritation flared more than curiosity.\n
With a heavy sigh, Frank heaved himself out of his recliner and shuffled to the door. Standing on the porch was a teenage girl, no older than sixteen, her eyes steady and determined.\n
Before she could utter a word, Frank snapped, \u201cNot interested! I don\u2019t want to buy anything, join a church, or save the environment. Whatever it is, the answer\u2019s no.\u201d With that, he slammed the door in her face.\n
\n
He turned to leave but froze when the doorbell rang again. Gritting his teeth, Frank returned to his recliner, grabbed the remote, and turned up the TV to drown out the sound. The weather report flashed across the screen: a hurricane warning for the city.\n
\u201cDoesn\u2019t matter to me,\u201d he muttered, unconcerned. His basement was fortified for anything.\n
But the ringing didn\u2019t stop. Ten minutes turned into fifteen, the persistent sound gnawing at his patience. Finally, he stomped back to the door and flung it open.\n
\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d he barked, his voice echoing down the empty street.\n
The girl met his glare without flinching. \u201cYou\u2019re Frank, right? I need to talk to you.\u201d\n
Frank squinted at her. \u201cLet\u2019s say I am. Who are you? And where are your parents?\u201d\n
\u201cMy name is Zoe,\u201d she said evenly. \u201cMy mom died recently. I don\u2019t have parents anymore.\u201d\n
\u201cWell, that\u2019s not my problem,\u201d Frank growled. He grabbed the door to close it, but Zoe pressed her hand against it.\n
\u201cDon\u2019t you want to know why I\u2019m here?\u201d she asked, her voice steady.\n
\n
\u201cThe only thing I want is for you to leave my property!\u201d he snapped, shoving her hand away and slamming the door so hard the frame rattled.\n
Silence followed. Frank peered through the curtains; she was gone. Satisfied, he muttered to himself and sank back into his chair.\n
The next morning, Frank\u2019s mood soured further. Stepping outside to grab the paper, he froze. Smashed eggs dripped down his walls, and black paint scrawled crude insults across his house. Grinding his teeth, he spent the entire day scrubbing, cursing under his breath.\n
But that evening, as he sipped tea on his freshly cleaned porch, his relief was shattered. Garbage littered his yard\u2014rotting food, torn papers, and cans strewn everywhere. Among the mess, a note taped to his mailbox read:\n
\u201cJust listen to me, and I\u2019ll stop bothering you. \u2014Zoe.\u201d\n
\n
By morning, things escalated. Protesters camped on his lawn, waving signs about environmental issues. Frank chased them off with a broom, fuming. On his door was another note:\n
\u201cListen to me, or I\u2019ll get more creative. \u2014Zoe.
\nP.S. The paint doesn\u2019t come off.\u201d\n
Seething, Frank called the number scrawled at the bottom. When Zoe answered, he barked, \u201cGet over here. Now.\u201d Then he hung up.\n
When she arrived, two police officers stood beside Frank. \u201cYou think you\u2019re clever? Let\u2019s see how clever you are in cuffs!\u201d he taunted. Zoe\u2019s eyes burned with fury as the officers led her away.\n
The satisfaction was short-lived. The next day, hurricane winds battered the neighborhood. Preparing to retreat to his basement, Frank spotted Zoe outside, clutching her backpack against the howling storm.\n
\u201cWhat are you doing?!\u201d he yelled, throwing open the door.\n
\u201cI have nowhere else to go!\u201d she shouted back.\n
\u201cThen come inside!\u201d he barked.\n
\u201cNo way!\u201d Zoe retorted. \u201cI\u2019d rather face the storm than be trapped with you!\u201d\n
Fed up, Frank stomped into the wind, grabbed her backpack, and hauled her inside. \u201cYou stay out there, you\u2019ll die!\u201d he bellowed.\n
\u201cMaybe I don\u2019t care!\u201d Zoe yelled, tears mixing with the rain. \u201cI have nothing left anyway!\u201d\n
\n
Dragging her to the basement, Frank slammed the door against the storm. Inside, Zoe glared at him but dropped onto the couch in defeat.\n
\u201cYou wanted to talk. Talk,\u201d Frank said, leaning against a shelf.\n
Zoe pulled out folded papers and handed them to him. \u201cThese are emancipation papers. I need your signature.\u201d\n
Frank blinked. \u201cWhy me?\u201d\n
\u201cBecause you\u2019re my grandfather,\u201d she said, her voice laced with anger. \u201cYour wife? Your daughter? Remember them?\u201d\n
Frank\u2019s face paled. \u201cThat\u2019s not possible.\u201d\n
\u201cIt is,\u201d Zoe snapped. \u201cYou abandoned them for your stupid dreams of painting. Grandma told me you were selfish, but even she didn\u2019t capture how awful you are.\u201d\n
Frank\u2019s hands trembled. \u201cI can\u2019t sign this. You\u2019re too young.\u201d\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve done nothing for anyone your whole life. You can\u2019t even do this one thing to help me?\u201d she shot back.\n
Silence stretched between them as the storm raged. Finally, Frank muttered, \u201cDo you even have a plan?\u201d\n
\u201cI\u2019m working on it,\u201d Zoe said. \u201cI have a job. I can manage.\u201d\n
\u201cYou\u2019re sixteen. You should be in school,\u201d Frank said quietly.\n
\u201cLife doesn\u2019t care about what we should do,\u201d Zoe replied.\n
Hours passed in tense silence. Watching Zoe sketch in her notebook, Frank couldn\u2019t deny her talent. Her bold, creative strokes reminded him of his younger self\u2014but better.\n
When the storm cleared, Frank handed her the signed papers. \u201cYou were right,\u201d he said gruffly. \u201cI was a terrible husband and father. But maybe I can help someone now.\u201d\n
Zoe stuffed the papers into her bag. \u201cThanks,\u201d she said softly.\n
Before she could leave, Frank hesitated. \u201cYou can stay here,\u201d he offered. \u201cI can\u2019t fix the past, but I won\u2019t let you face this alone.\u201d\n
Zoe smirked. \u201cFine. But I\u2019m taking your art supplies. I\u2019m way better than you.\u201d\n
Frank shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. \u201cStubborn. You get that from me.\u201d\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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