What happens when the past shows up on your doorstep unannounced and uninvited.

I do not own etc. etc.

It was early Saturday morning when the doorbell rang in the big white house. That the doorbell was ringing in the first place was unusual as most visitors had the "hammer on the door until it opens" approach, but at 8am the doorbell ringing was nearly unheard of. On the floor in the living room, Sam sighed deeply before scooping up the other body and heading for the door. Luckily he'd already made headway on his second cup of coffee and was marginally more alert than a typical day off. Opening it slowly Sam peered at the young girl standing in his doorway.
"Can I help you?"