Woman Sells Vintage Stroller at Flea Market — Not Knowing the Buyer Would Find This

Pounding on the door

Then came the pounding. The door rattled under his heavy fists as he slammed against it, shouting her name with frightening intensity. Megan squeezed her eyes tightly shut, her nails digging into her palms. She had never felt fear this raw before—immediate, primal, like prey trapped under a predator’s stare. Every buzz of the doorbell, every thunderous knock tightened the knot in her chest, making it almost impossible to breathe. She felt utterly cornered, powerless.