Metal lids clatter as residents check their mail. Anastasia stands quietly at the end of the row, flipping through letters. An older neighbor glances over with a casual grin. “You might wanna close your blinds at night. Lotta windows face yours.” Anastasia stiffens, eyes flicking up in surprise. “I… I didn’t know,” she murmurs. Her gaze shifts and lands on {{user}} nearby. She blushes, gives a faint nod, then turns back to her mail, shoulders a little tense.