But he was always so nice to us. - Melissa

Melissa was ten years old when she was touched inappropriately in her neighbourhood, in a shop that was less than two minutes away from home by foot.

Melissa and her brother were familiar faces with the shopkeepers. They would politely greet the shopkeepers who were friendly with their parents, calling them uncles and aunties.

One shop had a claw machine with stuffed toys. Melissa loved trying to catch them, though she rarely succeeded.

Once, when she couldn't catch any despite multiple attempts, the shopkeeper retrieved a couple of toys from the claw machine.

"It's okay," he said warmly. "You and your brother can have them."

As he said this, he patted a delighted Melissa on her head. Then he rubbed past her chest firmly with the side of his forearm, pressing the toys into her opened hands.

Melissa felt something wrong in that fleeting moment. The touch was unusual. Deliberate, somehow.

But she looked up at the uncle's smile. His apparent generosity. She thought about their long history of positive interactions. Her parents knew him. He was friendly. He had just given her free toys.

There was no congruence between what she felt and what she saw.

Perhaps she was standing too close to him in the tiny shop and it was an accident. Perhaps she imagined the pressure to be firmer than it actually was.

She thanked the shopkeeper and returned home with the toys, pushing this incident to the back of her mind.

Should I have seen this coming? - Agnes

Agnes had friendly relations with her long-time neighbours, a husband and wife couple. Mr and Mrs Li were an elderly couple with low household income. They had befrienders and volunteers from non-profit organisations visiting them regularly.

Agnes became an informal extension of this helping network. She would help Mr and Mrs Li read their mail. They struggled with the language used in official documents and weren't confident completing related tasks.

In return, Mrs Li would water Agnes's plants when she travelled. Mr Li, a handyman, mended her bicycle when it broke down.

When Mr Li's knees became weak and he became prone to falling, Agnes offered to check in on him when Mrs Li was away. It felt like the neighbourly thing to do.

One day, Mr Li called Agnes. There was urgency in his voice. "Can you come quickly? The window ledge is faulty and I'm worried it might fall."

Agnes hurried over.

When she arrived, Mr Li told her that Mrs Li was away. Then he asked her to have sex with him.

Agnes felt her blood run cold. Shock. Disgust. Anger. She scolded him sharply and left immediately.

Back in her own flat, her mind raced. Should she tell Mrs Li? Report him? Confront him again?

But Mrs Li was frail, elderly, dependent on him. The truth would devastate her. And what would happen to their living situation? Their support network?

Agnes decided she wouldn't reveal or pursue the incident. But she would take precautions for her own safety. No more going over when Mrs Li wasn't home. No more one-on-one interactions with Mr Li.

The friendly neighbour relationship had shattered. But outwardly, things looked the same.

I am doing all I can to help. - Kevin

Kevin was a respectable man. He was known to be fearless and would stand up for injustices he saw on the streets and at work.

With his colleagues, he was generous with his time, words, and help. With his relatives and family, he went out of his way to be present. Sometimes he would travel over an hour at the drop of a phone call to tend to their needs.

With his muscular appearance and his unapologetic speaking style, he appeared strong and invincible.

What was not obvious to the untrained eye was that Kevin was sensitive to perceived accusations that he was not enough. That he wasn't doing enough. That he wasn't good enough.

His closest ones learned, consciously and unconsciously, to move him to act through expressing distress and helplessness. Disappointment. Veiled criticisms. "I thought you would be here for me." "I guess I was wrong about you."

They lavished him with praise and love when he availed his time, energy, and resources. "You're amazing, Kevin. What would we do without you?"

Although he was exhausted, he did his best to fulfil everyone's expectations. He pushed himself harder. Slept less. Gave more.

But no matter how hard he tried, his efforts were never enough to meet the unending needs. There was always another crisis. Another call. Another person who needed him.

In his frustrations, he would sometimes erupt in intense anger. Vulgarities would fly. His voice would boom, filling the room with a rage that scared those around him into silence.

Afterwards, the guilt would settle in. He would apologise. Promise to do better. And the cycle would begin again.

Kevin, the strong one. Kevin, the helper.

Kevin, who was slowly burning out from the inside.

Can I trust her? - Li Li

Li Li and Mei Na were same-age neighbours whose mothers were homemakers. The two mothers would socialise together frequently, bringing their children along.

But beneath the friendly chats, there was an undercurrent. Their mothers seemed to be competing over their daughters' school grades. Every conversation eventually turned to academics.

When Mei Na's mother learned that Li Li had scored better than Mei Na, she would put Mei Na down publicly. "Why are you so stupid?" she would ask, her voice sharp with disappointment. "Look at Li Li. Why can't you be more like her?"

Li Li would look away, uncomfortable. Mei Na's face would flush with shame.

One day, Mei Na approached Li Li with a challenging maths problem. "Can you help me with this? I've been stuck for ages."

Li Li nodded and spent a few hours working through the problem, determined to figure it out. When she finally solved it, she felt a quiet sense of accomplishment.

Mei Na looked at the solution and smiled brightly. "Oh, thanks! Actually, another friend already solved this for me in only ten minutes."

Li Li felt something deflate inside her.

On another occasion, Li Li confided in Mei Na during a quiet moment. "I haven't told my mum about this issue because I don't want to get into trouble."

Mei Na nodded sympathetically.

The next day, Li Li's mother confronted her. Mei Na had gone straight to Li Li's mother, expressing "concerns" about what Li Li had shared.

Li Li felt the sting of betrayal. She thought they were friends. But was Mei Na actually competing with her all along?

What kind of friend would I be if I refused? - Remi

Remi had neighbours and friends who would come to him with dire situations and pressing needs.

One had an elderly mother who was grievously ill and needed medical care they couldn't afford. Another had a son whose school fees were overdue. The boy might be kicked out if payment didn't come through. Yet another had a loanshark after the family, threats growing more dangerous by the day.

Each time, Remi would lend them money. Sometimes it was repaid. Often it wasn't.

Word spread. Remi earned a reputation for being "a loyal friend," someone you could count on when times were tough. People spoke warmly of his generosity, his big heart, his willingness to help when no one else would.

In the meanwhile, his wife stretched every dollar to put food on the table. His children wore hand-me-downs and skipped school excursions because there wasn't enough money. The family lived hand to mouth, unable to improve their circumstances. Further education for the children? Starting a small business? These remained distant dreams, always just out of reach.

Remi's wife would sometimes ask gently, "Can we say no this time? We need to think about our own family too."

But Remi would shake his head. "How can I turn them away when they're desperate? What kind of friend would I be?"

And so the cycle continued. Remi, the loyal friend. His family, still waiting.