The moving truck had barely pulled away when the curtains in five different houses twitched almost simultaneously.
On Maple Lane, news travelled fast—faster than the speed of gossip at Fatima's poetry nights or Priya's yoga classes.
By noon, the five housewives had gathered at Isabella's kitchen table, the aroma of fresh empanadas filling the air as they leaned in conspiratorially.
"So," Isabella said, sliding a plate onto the marble countertop, "did anyone actually see them? The new neighbour?"
Mei Lin adjusted her silk scarf. "I saw a figure carrying boxes late last night. Couldn't make out details. Very... deliberate movements."
"Single occupant, I think," Sarah added, scrolling through her phone. "No family photos visible through the windows. I checked."
Priya raised an eyebrow. "You were peering through their windows, Sarah?"
"I was jogging past. There's a difference."
Fatima smiled mysteriously over her tea. "New blood on our little street. How... refreshing."
The doorbell rang.
All five women froze, exchanging glances. Isabella's kitchen suddenly fell silent except for the ticking of her grandmother clock.
"Well," Isabella whispered, "someone answer it."
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