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You're worried about your neighbors.
Actually, that might not be the best word for it. You're absolutely concerned, but you aren't paranoid, and you would never even consider reporting them to anyone with any kind of authority, regardless of how suspicious they can be when you start looking for things to be suspicious about. There's just something... well, worrying about the Forgers, and as much as you'd hate to doubt people who've only ever been nice to you, it can be difficult to put aside everything you see, everything you hear. It can be difficult not to worry, even if you're not entirely sure what you should be worrying about.
The father, for example. He's polite, if a bit stand-offish, and you really don't want to think so negatively of the man who's always been so happy to lend you a cup of sugar or invite you over for dinner, even if his cooking does have a habit of leaving you unable to stay on your feet for more than an hour or so well into the next day. If anyone ever asked you about Loid, you'd have nothing but praise, but... you'd have to admit, if pressed, that you don't like the way he rests his hand on the small of your back, and that his stare has a way of making you feel like you're being dissected, pried open, put on display for an audience you're unable to hide yourself from. He's just so smart - whenever you complain about not being able to find some off-handed trinket, he's always able to put together just where you must've left it, even though he's never been inside your flat, much less has a chance to search for it himself. If you ever asked, you're sure there'd be some trick or psychological pattern that'd explain it away, but you never have. You'd rather die than risk insulting him, no matter how many of your things go missing in the gaps between your conversations.
And the mother, too. Yor's lovely, and you don't know if you've ever met someone so willing to help you with the little mundane things that make life so hard, like moving furniture or hauling this week's groceries up half a dozen flights of stairs. But, she can be a little too intimate, a little too prone to hugging and clinging and making sure she's always as near as she can possibly be, whether that means keeping an arm around your waist while the two of you walk back to your complex together (coincidentally, you always seem to run into her on her way home, no matter how little your schedules ever line up) or her side pressing into yours as you nurse a glass of wine, a vintage number she insisted that you try despite your attempts to gently refuse. She's nice, but a little too nice, the kind of sickly sweetness that leaves a bitter taste on your tongue for days after you speak to her, and the fact that you're nearly always speaking to her doesn't help. You'd never try to avoid her, but it just feels like she's around every corner, constantly waiting and smiling and looking for an excuse to take your hand in hers. It can just be a little much, sometimes. It just feels so draining, to have someone put so much effort into being so close to you.
Anya, meanwhile, is a miracle of a child, considering how she's been brought up. She's kind, keen, not especially bright, but you've been told she studies to the best of her limited abilities. You know, from the few times you've been asked to babysit her while both Loid and Yor are otherwise occupied, that she's an angel, even if she did inherit her father's uncanny intuition, even if she always seems to know just what's on your mind, even if you're not sure if you've ever seen a child of her age with such an intense determination, especially when it comes to edging you ever closer to her dear parents - just a child's attempts at making her little family that much bigger, you're sure. That's why you can't bring yourself to say anything, honestly, why you just can't bring yourself to move, or change your locks, or get out of bed when you hear footsteps in the middle of the night that you know you shouldn't be hearing. That's why you can't seem to do anything at all.
You're worried about your neighbors.
And, you're even more worried that they won't only be your neighbors, soon enough.