She heard the doorbell ring through the thick oak front doors. The doorbell's melody sounded like a question and an answer.

Doorbell

Ding, dong, ding, dong?
Ding, dong, ding, dong.

She stood there for a full minute, and wondered what kind of question a doorbell would ask to itself and actually know the answer. Then she became frustrated. Where was Robert? It was obvious that he was home and awake—there was light coming from the house. Zoe wondered what she was interrupting as she stood there on the deck.