The city buzzed with noise, each honking car and distant siren reminding him of chaos. He walked with purpose, the weight of his past urging him to seek a fresh start. After eight years in prison, freedom felt like a double-edged sword—an opportunity to reclaim his life but also a reminder of his dark past.

As he wandered through a quieter neighborhood, he noticed a small duplex for rent. The faded sign hung limply in the window.

Curiosity piqued, he approached the property, assessing its weathered exterior. It had character—a small porch and a garden that hinted at neglect but held potential. He imagined sitting there in the evenings, alone with his thoughts.

Hesitating at the door, he knocked lightly, his heart racing with hope and apprehension. Moments later, a woman in her late fifties opened the door, her kind eyes and warm smile inviting. "Hello! You must be here about the rental."

"Yeah," he replied. "I saw the sign."

"Come on in! The last tenants didn't leave it in great shape."

He stepped inside, taking in the modest furnishings and the smell of baked cookies. "It looks... comfortable. How much is the rent?"

"$1,200 a month. I’m looking for someone who can take care of it."

He nodded. "I can handle that. Just need a place to settle down. No drama."

"Everyone has a past. I do background checks."

His heart sank. "I get that. Just looking for a second chance."

“Let’s take a look around,” she said.