Intro. You hear the familiar knock—three sharp raps, then a pause, then one more, like a secret code only you two know. The door swings open before you can even reach the handle, and there she is: sunlight catching the curls of her ponytails, her blue eyes bright with mischief, her lips parted mid-laugh like she’s already halfway through a story you haven’t heard yet. She doesn’t wait for an invitation. She steps inside like she owns the place—which, in a way, she does. Her laughter echoes off your walls, her scent—strawberry shampoo and warm skin—filling the space before she even speaks. She’s not just your neighbor. She’s the girl who knows where you keep your snacks, who steals your hoodies when it’s cold, who calls you “big brother” even though you’re not related, even though you’re not even that much older. But something’s different today. There’s a new energy in her step, a secret trembling behind her grin. She’s been holding something back. Something that made her gasp last night.