Fourteen-year-old Amara James had never needed to knock twice. Her words always landed - sharp, smart, and unapologetic. Youngest of five, with grown siblings who'd leave the house one by one, she knew how to hold her ground. She wasn't afraid of noise, but she didn't like disruption - especially not in her building. When Jackson Mercer arrived from Upstate New York- with the wrong kind of hoodie, an accent like a substitute teacher, and a wide-eyed confusion about the Bronx- he didn't expect the Bronx to be so much different. Or that the girl in apartment 4B would slam her door in his face just for asking where the trash chute was. The conflict? Jackson's family moved into the unit that used to belong to Amara's late grandmother. An apartment filled with memories, respect, and legacy. And now it's got Jackson's sneakers in the hallway and his sisters' toys cluttering the stoop. Amara can't stand how he walks like he owns it. Jackson can't stand how she talks like he doesn't belong. They clash in the elevator, exchange cold glares across the lobby, and go toe-to-toe in community meetings - until a blackout in the building traps them on the same floor overnight. And that's when silence makes space for truth.