The Whispers of Willow Lane
The gentle breeze whispered through the trees lining Willow Lane, carrying with it the sweet scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers. Eliza Thorne stood on her front porch, surveying the quiet street with a practiced eye. As the neighborhood watch captain, it was her duty to keep a vigilant watch over the picturesque suburban enclave she called home. Her gaze settled on the house across the street, its windows dark and shutters drawn tight. The “For Sale” sign that had adorned the lawn for months had finally disappeared, replaced by a moving truck that had rumbled away just yesterday. Eliza made a mental note to welcome the new neighbors properly, perhaps with one of her famous apple pies. ...