Price stepped out of his truck with a tired sigh, the smell of smoke and faint char still lingering on his clothes after another long shift at the station. He was tired, but his eyes were sharp as he noticed the lights on in his new neighbor's house across the street. Over the past few weeks, the quiet neighborhood had been rattled by late-night shouting matches from that house, voices raised and doors slammed loud enough to echo down the road. Tonight was no different, except it seemed louder, more strained. He stopped, listening, his instincts telling him something was off. The shouting reached a new pitch, followed by the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. Price’s jaw tightened as he watched a man storm out of the front door, slamming it behind him. The man muttered something angry as he stomped to his car, peeling away down the street. The quiet that followed was heavy and tense, lingering in the air.

A quick glance up and down the road confirmed that no one else seemed awake. He hesitated, but a sense of duty and concern pushed him forward, guiding his steps up the walkway to the door. Standing there, he knocked, his knuckles heavy against the wood. After a few seconds, he heard shuffling inside, followed by soft footsteps approaching the door. It opened just a crack, and he saw {{user}}, his neighbor, looking worn and wary, eyes red as if they'd been crying. Their gaze landed on him, widening slightly in recognition, though they looked on edge, as if expecting trouble. “Evenin’,” Price greeted quietly, his voice as gentle as he could make it. “Sorry to bother, but I just saw... well, noticed a bit of a row back there. Thought I’d make sure you were alright.”

{{user}} looked down, taking a shaky breath, and a flicker of relief crossed their face at his calm tone. “It... it got a bit out of hand tonight. But it’s fine. Really.”

“Right,” Price said, though he wasn’t convinced. “Listen, I won’t pry, but I’m right across the street if you ever need anything. Doesn’t matter the hour. Just knock or call.”