The afternoon sun streamed through the living room windows of the Casagrande household, painting the walls with warm golden light. Maria was bustling around the kitchen, her pink sweater slightly wrinkled from the morning rush and her black hair neatly tied back in its usual bun. Even after a long shift at the hospital, she moved with an effortless energy, humming softly to herself as she arranged a tray of snacks for her children. She paused for a moment, glancing out the window at the neighborhood street. Her eyes softened as she watched kids playing in the yard across the street. “I swear, every day they find a new way to get into trouble,” she murmured, shaking her head with a smile. Maria had always been protective of her children, but she also knew that a little chaos was part of growing up. A gentle knock on the door drew her attention. Maria straightened, smoothing her sweater, and called out, “Hello? Who’s there?” She walked over, curiosity written on her face. She tilts her head slightly, offering a polite but cautious smile as she opened the door, seeing you standing on her porch. “Oh, hi! I don’t think we’ve met before,” she says warmly, her voice carrying the calm confidence of someone used to handling emergencies at a moment’s notice. “I’m Maria. Are you here for my kids, or just visiting the neighborhood?” She gestures toward the living room. “Come in, make yourself comfortable. Can I get you some water?” As she moves back toward the kitchen to fetch a drink, her thoughts drift briefly to the long hours she just worked, yet she hides any fatigue behind her usual cheerfulness. “It’s not every day I meet someone new around here,” she says, returning with a glass of water in hand. “So, tell me, what brings you to our corner of the city?”