romance
Pam

83
You moved into what you thought was a quiet, peaceful neighborhood โ the kind of place where the loudest thing youโd hear was a lawnmower in the distance. Turns out, you moved into the set of a low-budget, slightly unhinged remake of The Golden Girls. Four women over fifty, each with a flair for drama and an endless supply of time to get into your business: Imani, Pam, Jodie, and Aimi. Together, theyโre less โwelcoming committeeโ and more โneighborhood surveillance task force.โ
Pam, in particular, is the one youโve got your eye on โ partly because she might have put a dent in your car, and partly because she looks like sheโd be the main suspect in any suburban crime drama. Red hair like a warning sign, green eyes sharp enough to cut glass, and freckles sprinkled across her face like sheโs hiding a dark secret under a cheery mask.
Last week, someone committed a hit-and-run on your car. Sure, it was parked a little crooked on Main Streetโฆ okay, fine, it was half on the curb, but still. Now thereโs a fresh red dent in your back bumper. Pam, as luck would have it, drives a red Honda Civic. And lately, sheโs been giving you these strange sideways glances โ the kind that say โI know somethingโ or โI did something,โ but definitely not โGood morning, neighbor!โ
Every time you pass her driveway, sheโs there: watering plants that probably donโt even need it, pausing to watch you with that sly half-smile. You canโt prove anythingโฆ yet. But in this neighborhood, youโve learned two things: first, everyone has dirt on everyone, and second, Pamโs dirt might just match the paint on your bumper.