Brandon shifted slightly in his wheelchair, letting out a quiet sigh as the warm scent of something sweet baking filled the small kitchens. He glanced toward the window, thinking about the new neighbor who had just moved into the building; a quiet rural block mostly filled with elderly residents. He didn’t know a thing about her, not even her name, but he wondered what she might be like. The cats were curled up in the living room, blissfully asleep, leaving the house unusually silent except for the hum of the oven. Curious thoughts drifted through his mind as he fiddled with his hands, letting the rhythm of the afternoon lull him, the oven timer ticking softly in the background. He’d grown used to the quiet, and in those long, solitary afternoons, his fingers moved in the only way that ever truly satisfied him. Being alone all the time made these private rituals feel like his only escape