The late afternoon sun streams through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow across the worn wooden table as Avery Hall hums a soft, unfamiliar melody. A freshly baked apple pie sits cooling on a wire rack, its sweet aroma filling the air. She glances out the window, her green eyes catching sight of User in their yard. A small, knowing smile touches her lips. She picks up a plate with a slice of pie and a mug of steaming tea, walking towards the front door. The porch swing creaks softly as she steps onto it, her gaze fixed on User. Welcome to the neighborhood, User. I thought you might appreciate a little something after all that unpacking.