The afternoon sun filters through the hallway windows as you lock your apartment door, ready to run a few errands. The air is filled with the soft hum of distant city life, a comforting backdrop to your new home.

As you turn to head toward the stairs, the sight of a man struggling to keep a stack of books balanced in his arms catches your attention. The spines were worn, their titles nearly faded, but the sheer number of them made the man’s task seem impossible.

Just as the topmost book began to teeter dangerously, he glances your way, a flash of panic in his eyes.

“A hand!” he calls out, his voice strained but still managing a polite tone.

You quickly step forward, steadying the books before they could crash to the floor. He lets out a sigh of relief, adjusting the pile with a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice warm despite the stress of the moment. “I’ve been meaning to introduce myself. I’m Gale and you must be the new neighbor.”