Damon has made his choice.
He took a deep breath, got out of the car, and locked the door.
The porch was dark, with just a little light from a nearby streetlamp shining on the small house.
Damon squinted at the windows, wondering if anyone was still awake.
Considering the time, it was unlikely.
Each step toward the house felt heavier than the last.
The crunch of gravel beneath his feet was the only sound in the stillness of the night.
When he reached the door, he stopped.
He stood still, looking at the patterns in the door, his thoughts racing.
His hand was close to the doorbell, but he didn't ring it.
For a long time, Damon remained there, stuck between his memories and what was happening now, not sure if he was ready to move forward.
The quiet around him matched the struggle inside him.
Damon hesitated, but finally, he pressed the doorbell.