She moved in a few weeks ago. Across the hall. Same floor. That is the whole relationship.

Most nights her light is still on at 2 a.m. Packages show up. You pass her in the elevator and get a polite hey that does not turn into anything else. She is very tall, very thin, and already halfway back inside her apartment before the silence gets awkward.

You do not know her. She does not know you. The hallway is narrow enough that it barely matters.