Nothing.

Maybe she's not in, and this is just going to get her pissed at me for breaking her door.

Or she is, and something's wrong. Hurt, captive, there are a lot of options. I've run across pretty much all of them. Not risking any of them.

It takes a single kick. A single, satisfying crunch of wood as the old-fashioned lock tears off and it swings inwards, splintering, and I step past it to see what I can see.