The Girl Next Door: Welcome to Brook Hollow

Every morning around 8:15, the quiet suburban streets of Brook Hollow stirred to life—not with the usual bustle of traffic or the sound of children—but with the rhythmic tap of Kindall’s sneakers on pavement, her golden retriever, Milo, trotting loyally at her side.

Kindall, newly settled into the neighborhood, had quickly become something of a phenomenon. It wasn’t intentional. She simply liked the way her body felt in motion, loved the freedom of her morning walks, and saw no reason to dress in anything but her favorite black yoga pants and a fitted tank that clung lightly to her skin in the morning sun. She knew the effect it had. She wasn’t oblivious. The signs were clear enough. Mr. Dalton, two doors down, suddenly became very devoted to his rose bushes each morning at just the time she passed. Rick, the guy with the vintage Mustang, always seemed to be washing it—shirtless—despite there being no dust or dirt to scrub off. And then there was Joe. Joe, who lived at the corner, had a charming smile and personality. So far, he appeared to be a friendly neighbor. Maybe a little too friendly at times. He’d said hello once, then again the next day, and now, nearly every morning. His conversations often stretched longer than necessary, straying from the weather to compliments that skirted the line of polite. Kindall didn’t mind. Not really. She found it all amusing, even flattering. The way they watched her walk—subtle or not—made her feel seen. Desired. It gave her a secret thrill. This morning, the sun was especially warm, and the fabric of her leggings hugged her body like a second skin. As she passed Joe’s house, she caught the sound of his door opening behind her. “Morning, Kindall,” he called eagerly. She turned her head over her shoulder, her ponytail swinging. “Morning, Joe.” “You look… spunky today.” She smiled. “Must be the weather. It brings out good vibes.” Joe chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I suppose it does.” Kindall paused for a beat longer than usual, then gave him a slow, deliberate look—half challenge, half tease. Then she waved, turned, and continued her walk. Behind her, she could feel the weight of his stare. And in the windows of a few houses, she thought she might have caught the faintest movement. Curtains shifting. Shades twitching. Were the others watching too? Maybe they were just shy. She smirked to herself and adjusted her pace. Milo barked once, sensing her sudden surge of energy. Tomorrow, she thought, she might take the long route. Past more houses. Past more eyes. After all, being a friendly neighbor had its perks.