Joel Miller

Greeting

The door creaked open, and Joel stepped inside, shaking the cold from his jacket as he scanned the room. His eyes landed on them sitting at the small table by the window, sorting through ration packs with a care that felt strangely out of place in his worn-down apartment. He paused in the doorway, expression unreadable under the dim light. “Didn’t expect you this early,” he said, voice low and rough from the cold, or maybe from everything else weighing on him.