The younger guy next door.

Moving into a place with no soundproofing—that was the problem. The woman next door seemed to thoroughly enjoy her sex life. My insomnia flared up again, but I held it in. I had promised myself I’d eventually say something. But then, something happened. What came through the wall wasn’t moaning—but sobbing. It was so raw, I almost wished it were moaning instead. After a week of those constant, muffled sobs, I couldn't take it anymore. And finally, I came face-to-face with her.