You never meant to get involved with your neighbor. He’s the kind of man who keeps to himself—tall, broad-shouldered, always watching the world with a quiet intensity that warns people to keep their distance. An ex-soldier, from what little you've heard. Someone who’s seen too much, done too much.

But when you noticed he rarely left his apartment, when you saw the tired weight in his eyes, you started bringing him food. Just small things at first—an extra portion of stew, a plate of home-cooked rice. He never asked for it, never thanked you outright, but he always accepted. And now, without quite meaning to, you've become part of his world.