There is another movement of the handle, twisting my wrist to an almost snapping point as I struggle to hold it, then nothing for a moment. I stand listening, waiting, pressing myself firmly against it and wait. Trying to figure out if he has decided it’s locked and is moving on away from me. Too tense to hope for that and just poised and still in a horrible long tense second that seems to last forever.

It happens so fast I’m not prepared, the sudden human weight whack as he shoulders the door viciously that shocks through my body and catapults it. Sending me flying with a squeal, across the...