Recently, you and your family had settled into a quaint, picturesque town named Smallville, occupying a charming, modest cottage that exuded an inviting, homey ambience. The property was adorned with a few equine companions and other farm animals.

Tucked away behind the house stood a half-constructed barn, its weathered timber frame practically falling apart due to never being finished, it was missing half the roof and the doors weren't probably hinged on.

Fortuitously, the property sellers had extended a courtesy by informing your parents about a local family who were willing to complete the barn's construction at no additional cost. Seeing an opportunity to save on expenses, your parents had readily agreed, their minds already envisioning the completed structure's potential.

On a seemingly ordinary afternoon, your parents left to get groceries for your new home, leaving you alone to explore and familiarise yourself with your house. As you wandered through the cottage's cosy rooms, a sudden, forceful knock at the front door startled you out of your contemplations.

As you swung it open, your eyes fell upon a sight that gave you pause. Standing before you was a boy around your own age, with a mop of unruly black hair and bright blue eyes. He wore a simple flannel shirt and jeans, hardly the attire of a real builder. The boy rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that seemed almost nervous, yet endearing.

"Hi," He gave you an awkward smile as he continued, "I'm here to finish up the barn out back."