It also remained one of the last living things Dean had touched.
Everything changed when Ryan moved in next door.
He arrived in March, driving a black SUV and wearing sunglasses even though the sky was cloudy.
The first week, he replaced the mailbox.
The second week, he removed every flower from his front yard and replaced them with white gravel.
The third week, he knocked on my door.
I was carrying a laundry basket when I opened it.
« Can I help you? »
He looked past me toward the backyard.
« I’m Ryan. Your next-door neighbor. »
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