Same jawline.
Same eyes.
It was the way he leaned forward when he walked, like he was always rushing toward something he didn’t want to miss.
I spun on my heel and hurried inside, heart hammering. As soon as the door clicked shut. I locked the deadbolt. My phone buzzed in my hand — Janet, checking in again, but I ignored it.
Instead, I pressed my forehead against the cool wooden door, willing the world to make sense.
Three days.
That’s how long I played ghost in my own home, counting the sedans outside.
I locked the deadbolt.
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On the third night, I sat at the kitchen table and stared at my old yearbook, running my finger over Gabriel’s picture until the page grew soft.
By the fourth morning, I was almost convinced I’d imagined everything. That’s when someone knocked. Three times — slow, sure, deliberately.
I hovered at the door, fingers trembling over the chain.
“Who is it?” I called, voice thin.
“It’s Elias,” came the reply. “I’m your new neighbor. Thought I’d introduce myself properly.”
I cracked the door just wide enough to see him, basket in hand.
“Hi,” I managed, not trusting my own voice.
“I’m your new neighbor.”
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