She knocked so often that I stopped seeing a person and started seeing an interruption. It was always the same request: a cup of sugar. At first, I lent it without thinking. Then it became irritating. She lived next door, alone, and seemed to appear whenever I was busy. One afternoon, after another knock, I opened the door already angry.

“A cup of sugar,” she said quietly.

I stared at her. “Buy your own. You’re pathetic.”

She looked at me for a second, nodded once, and walked away. I closed the door, relieved that the interruptions were finally over. Five days later, two officers stood on my porch. They asked if I knew the woman next door. Then one of them told me they had found her during a welfare check. Before I could understand why, he handed me a folded piece of paper with my name written across the top…