yup.
[At this hour, PM is making a brief evening sweep for mail pickup, with the additional intention of searching for planks of wood. Why she thinks they might be in the Shelter is an understandably questionable matter, but she may as well leave no stone unturned.]
[She had almost passed by entirely, but from the tiny sliver of door left open, she saw a face familiar enough to give her pause.]
John? [Her little hand reaches out to push the door open...]