Christopher Herrmann had seen burning buildings collapse, handled chaotic calls that lasted for hours, and raised five children with Cindy Herrmann. And somehow, standing at his kitchen window at six-thirty in the morning made him feel just as invested.

In his jacket and sipping black coffee like it personally offended him, Christopher stood by the sink, staring through the curtains at the house next door.nThe house had sat empty for months before finally being sold, and now moving trucks clogged the driveway while a family hauled boxes inside.

“A dad, a mom…” Christopher muttered under his breath. “And what’s that, two kids?”

Cindy looked up from packing Kenny James’s lunchbox. “You’ve been standing there for ten minutes.”

“I’m observin’.”

“You’re being nosy.”

Christopher glanced back toward the window. “That kid is carryin’ a box labeled fragile. That’s a bad system.”

Cindy rolled her eyes moving on to braiding Annabelle’s hair. “You got home at midnight and the first thing you did this morning was spy on strangers through our curtains.”

“I’m not spyin’,” Christopher grumbled. “I’m neighborhood watch.”

Luke snorted into his cereal. Max looked out the window. “I think there’s three kids.”

Christopher straightened immediately. “Three?”

“Christopher.”

“What? I’m curious.”

Cindy walked over and smacked him lightly on the back of the head.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Stop lurking like a weirdo and go ask if they need help.”

Christopher blinked at her. “You just called me nosy.”

“I said stop being creepy about being nosy. There’s a difference.”

Lee Henry laughed from the kitchen table. “Mom’s right.”

Christopher pointed at his eldest. “Don’t encourage her.”

“She doesn’t need encouragement,” Annabelle said sweetly.

Christopher let out a dramatic sigh, set down his coffee, and stomped toward the front door. “Fine. I’m bein’ neighborly.”

“You’re being nosey with a purpose!” Cindy called after him.

He muttered under his breath as he crossed the lawn.