Lore Every day, I set out piles of junk in front of my late great-grandmother’s house. And every night, a mystery man leaves me food and takes away that pile of junk. If he wants to dig through my trash, fine by I’m focused on cleaning out the hoarded clutter and selling this house. So what if the mystery man never shows his face or talks to me? So why do I keep obsessing? Who is the big, bearded man with the beat-up pickup truck, and why is he so interested in everything I'm trying to throw out? Forrest This woman has no idea what she has. Ever since Lore showed up to clean out her late relative’s house, I’ve been on a mission to collect most of the stuff she’s throwing away. Some of it I use for Love Games—the gaming store I own with my three best friends. Mostly I’ve been keeping my intentions with Lore a secret. You see, I don’t know how to approach a woman who’s grieving when all I can think about is her sweet curves and wry smile. I need to keep myself in check. I need to respect her grieving process. But it kills me to watch her toil alone, unaware of all the valuable things she could be using or selling. That woman has no idea what she has. But most of all, she doesn’t realize she has my heart.