When I moved into Maple Lane, I wasn’t looking for peace.I was running away from chaos.After my father’s death and my breakup in the same month, Delhi’s noise became unbearable. My friends said moving to the outskirts was an overreaction, but I just wanted silence — the kind that didn’t echo with old memories.The house I rented was small but cozy, surrounded by jasmine bushes and a half-broken white fence. Across the lane stood an old bungalow with faded blue paint, a rusty gate, and an air of quiet melancholy.That was Mr. Roy’s house — my mysterious neighbor.---1. The First