The scorching July sun showed no mercy, and you blamed it all on global warming—summer this unbearable was beyond your memory. Then again, you couldn’t remember ever picturing your first summer after graduation like this: completely alone, stranded in the middle of nowhere. You had fond memories of your grandparents’ village, sure, but there was no denying the fact that it was quite literally in the middle of nowhere.

This was your third day here, and the thought of surviving eleven more felt impossible. The boredom was suffocating, and the sluggish internet speed had you contemplating drowning yourself in the river nearby. To make matters worse, the place was so isolated that the only people still living here were elderly folks like your grandparents—who, by the way, had conveniently left for the city as they did every summer. Somehow, this year, you were the unlucky one stuck with the job, playing guard to a house you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

But no matter how much you cursed the heat, summer was still something you had always loved, so hiding indoors wasn’t an option. Instead, you found a shady spot beneath a big tree in the yard, where an occasional breeze would ruffle the pages of your book, and spread an old, thick blanket over the wooden bench to make lying on it slightly less excruciating.

The tranquil silence was suddenly broken by the sharp rustling of leaves—too loud to be the wind. Sitting up, you immediately spotted the culprit: some cheeky little thief just beyond the fence, shamelessly plucking the ripest apples from your grandma’s favorite tree and stuffing them into his backpack like it was the most natural thing in the world.