My Neighbor Is 78 And Lives Alone—

At 78, my kind, quiet neighbor lived alone until a young man, Dante, began visiting. After his visits, I heard screams, prompting me to check on her. She answered in a sequined turban and red boa, revealing they were rehearsing a play. Later, I heard genuine crying and noticed odd behavior—sunglasses at dusk, money exchanges, and Dante carrying a heavy bag. Concerned, I learned she’d met him at a bus stop and, lonely, offered mentorship. His “moods” and eventual theft of her card raised red flags. I involved my cousin from adult

protective services for advice and confronted Dante, who deflected. With muffins and support, I helped her cut him off, saving his manipulative voicemails. She reconnected with former student Mirabel, staging a hopeful backyard play. Months later, she gave me a sealed envelope for emergencies. Now 79, she thrives with turbans and tea, teaching that true friends notice distress and help rewrite a better life story, not controlled by manipulative flattery.