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Emma’s laptop lived in the corner of her kitchen like a patient animal. She wrote ad copy by day and grocery lists by night; the Drafts folder on her email was a thicket of half-formed subject lines, joke replies never sent, and paragraphs she told herself she’d come back to. One rainy Tuesday she opened…

The municipal archive smelled like dry paper and sleeping things. Lena worked nights there because the quiet let her think — and because at night the city’s small cruelties felt muffled. The building was one of those old places with bones: narrow stairs, a kettle that whistled itself, and doors that complained when they opened.…

Daniel thought the worst part of moving after his divorce would be the loneliness.He was wrong. Across the hall lived Mr. Hale — pale, polite, always smiling… and never blinking.Not once. Not ever. For weeks Daniel tried to ignore it, until the night he found a black notebook outside his door.Inside were detailed notes about…