If you could provide more details about the nature of the lockout and what you're trying to access, I could offer more targeted advice.

"Locked out," Abella said flatly, holding up her single slipper as if it explained everything.

"You okay?" he asked, glancing up. "You look like you’re either about to cry or commit a felony."

"Of course," she muttered, pressing her forehead against the cold metal of her front door.

"You do this often?" she whispered.