When Selina and Nadina moved onto the third floor, they brought a sofa, eight boxes, and a large pot of rosemary. Their neighbor Vera held the door, asked whether they were sisters, and abruptly stopped asking questions when they said they were partners. Later she still brought two cups of coffee. Selina took the gesture as an awkward but decent beginning.
A month later a complaint about nighttime noise appeared in the residents' group. It named nobody, only "the new apartment on the third floor." Nadina had worked at a hotel reception that night, and Selina had slept alone with a fever. They answered calmly and offered to talk. Vera wrote that individual details did not matter if people already felt uncomfortable in their own building.
Then came claims about unknown visitors, smoke in the hallway, and a damaged mailbox. None had an exact date. The landlord called to ask whether they intended to stay. For the first time Selina heard her home described as a problem that their departure might solve. She requested a meeting where each specific complaint could be discussed separately.
The meeting took place downstairs between bicycles and spare tiles. Vera spoke longest. She said she was against nobody and only wanted peace. Then her son entered carrying a tape measure and asked his mother when he could view the third-floor apartment. The silence lasted long enough for him to realize he had arrived at the wrong moment. Vera closed the folder she had never opened.
Her son explained that his mother had said the tenants were leaving soon and had already spoken to the landlord. He knew nothing about the complaints. Nadina felt relief, then anger that she had needed such an accidental revelation at all. She said they paid rent, followed building rules, and would not prove they deserved a home by being quieter than everyone else.
The residents' representative requested that future complaints describe specific incidents and that previous unverified accusations not be repeated as facts. The landlord confirmed their lease. Vera's son apologized and left. Vera did not, at least not then. For weeks she avoided them on the stairs, which Selina found easier than false friendliness over coffee.
In May the rosemary outgrew its pot. Nadina repotted it on the balcony, and Selina took cuttings to neighbors who had asked for them. One reached Vera through an older woman on the first floor. That did not mean reconciliation. It simply meant there was once again something in the building to discuss without turning somebody else's life into a meeting agenda.