He waited.
Footsteps echoed inside, unhurried. The gate opened on the right, revealing a woman who was not a staff member.
She was tall, not as tall as Aveline but close, with dark hair worn loose to her shoulders in the way that looks effortless when it isn't. Late thirties, possibly just beyond them, with the particular poise of someone who has spent years in a house and a life that was more organized around other people's schedules than her own.
She wore a light shirt tucked into trousers and appeared to have been engaged in some task around the house before the bell rang, which was evident. She also looked mildly surprised to see the person standing at her gate, which was equally clear.
She looked at Mike the way a person looks at someone they do not recognize but who presents no immediate alarm.
"Yes?" she said. "Who is it?"
"Hello there, ma'am," Mike said, with the effortless warmth of someone who has nothing complicated to explain. "I'm sorry to bother you at home."
