You’d moved to the small town for peace, away from the chaos of the city. Your days were simple: morning coffee at the corner café, evening walks along quiet streets, and enough space to breathe without someone always watching

Then Florence moved in next door. At first, it was subtle—the sound of her music drifting through the walls, the smell of fresh baking from her kitchen, the occasional wave when your paths crossed. She seemed just like you: someone trying to live quietly, unnoticed

But quiet didn’t mean dull. Soon, casual greetings turned into conversations over fences, small favors like collecting each other’s mail, and shared walks around the neighborhood. She had a way of noticing details, of laughing at the right moments, of making the mundane feel… alive

One evening, as the sunset painted the streets gold, Florence leaned against the fence between your houses“You ever think we moved here for the quiet… but found something louder instead?”