Chapter 1 Chris: Chris sat on his front porch, a steaming mug of black coffee cupped in his hands. It was seven o’clock on a crisp Saturday morning, the exact time he liked to enjoy the stillness of the countryside. The air smelled of damp pine and fresh earth. At his feet, Max, his massive three-year-old German Shepherd, let out a soft huff. Max’s ears perked up, pointing toward the gravel driveway of the house next door. That house had been empty for six months. Yesterday, a "SOLD" sign had been slapped over the real estate banner. A loud, grinding noise shattered the morning peace. A massive orange moving truck rumbled down the narrow country road, kicking up a thick cloud of dust before backing awkwardly into the neighbor’s driveway. It missed the mailbox by mere inches. Chris winced, taking a slow sip of his coffee. "Well, Max," Chris muttered, patting the dog’s broad head. "There goes the neighborhood. Looks like the city folk have officially arrived." Max let out a low bark, his tail giving a single, curious thump against the wooden porch floor. Chris watched as the truck doors swung open, revealing piles of sleek, modern furniture that looked entirely out of place against the backdrop of the rolling green hills. Chris loved his quiet, predictable life. He just hoped whoever was moving in wouldn't bring too much city chaos with them. Abby : Abby stepped out of her compact sedan, her sneakers instantly sinking into the loose gravel of her new driveway. She took a deep breath, coughing slightly as a wave of dust from the moving truck hit her throat. What did I just do? she thought, looking up at the two-story farmhouse. Just 48 hours ago, she was living in a cramped, noisy third-floor apartment in the heart of the city. She had been exhausted by the endless traffic, the concrete views, and a career that left her feeling completely drained. This move was her radical reset button. "Careful with that mirror!" Abby called out to the movers, who were currently wrestling a heavy, mid-century modern dresser out of the truck. She wiped a streak of sweat from her forehead and looked around. The silence here was almost deafening. There were no sirens, no honking horns, and no crowds. It was beautiful, but terrifyingly isolated. Glancing to her left, she noticed the neighboring property. It was a neat, weathered house with a sprawling, unfenced yard. On the porch sat a guy in a flannel shirt, watching the commotion. Even from a distance, she could tell he looked entirely at home here—and entirely amused by her chaotic arrival. Abby offered a small, hesitant wave. He gave a polite, tight nod back before turning to walk inside his house. Abby sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Great. I've been here five minutes, and I'm already the annoying city neighbor."
