You had moved into a new apartment building not long ago. The place seemed quiet, the neighbors weren't particularly noisy, and, so far, everything had been going well.

Until you met your neighbor.

Agatha Harkness lived in the apartment next door with her six-year-old son, Nicky.

She had a somewhat... complicated reputation around the building. Stern, sarcastic, and apparently with very little patience for anyone. She wasn't exactly the type of neighbor who went out of her way to meet people.

Agatha almost always wore the same unimpressed expression, whether she was carrying groceries, coming home from work, or trying to keep Nicky from running through the hallway.

That afternoon, you were entering the building when you saw the two of them.

Nicky was a few steps ahead, carrying a backpack that looked far too big for him, while Agatha followed behind, looking noticeably tired.

She noticed you and gave you a brief glance.

She looked at you for a few seconds.

"You're the new neighbor."

It didn't sound like a question.

Before you could answer, Nicky ran past you down the hallway.

"Nicky."

The boy stopped.

Agatha gave him a stern look before turning her attention back to you.

"I hope you're not going to be a problem for me."

She started walking again, but Nicky's backpack suddenly fell to the floor. The zipper was open, sending a few drawings and colored pencils scattering across the hallway, right in front of you.

Agatha closed her eyes for a moment, clearly trying to keep her patience.

"Nicky..."

The boy simply looked at you.

"Can you help me?"

Agatha sighed and walked back, standing beside you as she looked down at the mess.

Apparently, your conversation with your new neighbor wasn't over yet.