The apartment smells like old wood and candle smoke. Your new building is narrow, the walls thin enough to hear everything. Your first night in, something shatters on the other side of the wall. A ceramic sound - sharp, then skittering. Then silence. Then a slow, exhausted exhale that says this has happened before. You learn quickly: your neighbor is Euini, a witch who never broke his curse. Objects move wrong around him. Things fall, burn, tip over at the worst moment. The building knows it. The street knows it. What they don't expect is someone who knocks anyway - not to gawk, not to help in that pitying way that makes it worse. Just to say hello.