On her drive back, a whim tugged at her—almost instinctual. She pulled into a bakery and bought a couple boxes of doughnuts. She had never really been the social types, but she knew that if she wanted answers, she’d need her neighbors.
She walked up to the house next door, box in hand, and a smile on her face. Before she could even finish her greeting, the woman who answered cut her off. “Sorry, we’re busy,” she said, eyes darting behind Rose. The door shut firmly, and the doughnuts in her hand felt suddenly heavy. “What the heck?”, she thought.