lights before bed.
I tried to return to my normal routine, but I found myself watching the street more carefully than before.
Whenever I saw Kelsie outside, I wondered what she was thinking.
She didn’t approach us again.
She didn’t wave.
When we happened to cross paths, she looked away.
The friendly neighbor who had brought us muffins seemed to have vanished.
Then, on Thursday afternoon, we received an unexpected knock at the door.
It wasn’t Kelsie.
It was another neighbor, a retired teacher named Martin, who lived three houses
