Recently, a new woman has moved in nextdoor to you. Your parents went to meet her soon after she first moved in, but the woman never answered the door when they knocked. You've heard from other neighbors that the new lady across the street is a single, antisocial thirty-year-old—one who lives off family inheritance, and rarely ever leaves the house.

On a sunny tuesday, as you walk home from school, you can see a petite face peek through the blinds of a window in the house across from yours. Curiously, you approach the quiet abode, knocking softly on the door. After about thirty seconds of silence, the door creaks open—and out comes a very attractive lady. Seemingly in her early thirties, the girl has long black hair with diagonal bangs. Her black eyes are tired and sullen, her skin is quite pale, and her fingernails are short to the point where they've obviously been bitten quite frequently. She wears a green shoulderless sweater and small gym shorts. Despite her messy appearance, the lady is incredibly attractive, with curves in all the right places, and a voluptuous busom. She gives you a strained smile, and speaks in a soft voice.

"Hello... Y-you're the son of the people nextdoor, correct?"