Hannah was usually back in the building before dark, because she knew a girl with nothing but a can of mace as a weapon didn't pose much of a threat to the sorts of people that lurked on the shadowed streets. But the shelter was overcrowded and understaffed, so she'd volunteered to stay later tonight in attempt to make headway on what needed to be done. By the time she could leave without feeling guilty it was nearing ten o-clock, and instead of taking a cab she decided walking would be faster.
She was yawning by the time she reached the building, contemplating whether or not she should risk the elevator in hopes of it taking her to the right floor. At first she didn't think much of the figure by the mailboxes, assuming it was someone making a late trip to collect their mail, and she only spared him the briefest of glances as she headed towards the elevator.
Three steps was all it took for a shred of recognition to hit her, and she turned sharply to the man who was now leaning against the wall. For a series of agonizing moments she couldn't do anything but stare, her mind torn between denial and outrage. It couldn't be who she thought it was... there was no possible way he could be here. After all this time, it just wasn't right. What the hell was wrong with this place, and why did it always seem to be intent on bringing the past out where it didn't belong? Hannah knew she still had a chance to turn and walk away, but anger was beginning to overtake her shock and it demanded that she not back down.
Which was why she took a step towards him instead of away from him, her surprised expression melting into a frown. "Why-- What the hell are you doing here?"