The note scribbled by our delivery driver sent me racing to the trash cans in my backyard, sparking a sequence of events I would never have anticipated. His cryptic message may very well have protected my family from a dangerous threat, but we weren’t out of danger yet.
Usually, when I’m too exhausted to cook for my kids, I order delivery. Over time, we’ve come to know Ravi, our regular driver. He’d always have a friendly chat with my kids, Kai and Isla, and high-five them before leaving. But last Tuesday, something was different.
When Ravi arrived that night, he seemed agitated. He shoved the food into my hands and dashed back to his motorcycle without a word.
“What’s up with Ravi?” Kai asked, watching as Ravi sped off into the night.
I shrugged, just as puzzled. “No idea, buddy. Maybe he’s in a hurry.”
I took the food to the kitchen, but as I unwrapped the bags, I spotted a message scrawled across one of them: “CHECK YOUR TRASH CAN.”
My pulse quickened. I calmly sent the kids to wash up, then slipped out to the backyard alone, heart pounding with every step as I lifted the lid of our trash can. Inside, wrapped in a grimy old blanket, I found a set of gloves, some small tools, and a bottle of liquid with no label.
Just then, Isla’s voice pulled me back. “Mom? Are you okay?”
I shut the lid with a nervous smile. “Yes, sweetie. Just… checking something. Go on inside, I’ll be there soon.”
Back in the house, I called the sheriff’s office, detailing what I’d found to Leona, the dispatcher. “Stay inside with the kids and don’t touch anything,” she said firmly. “I’ll send someone over right away.”
Our neighborhood had recently seen a string of break-ins. I realized, with a chill, that my house was likely next on the list.
Just then, a knock on the door revealed Leona, who took my statement with quiet intensity. “I’ll take these items to the lab,” she said. “In the meantime, we’ll arrange extra patrols around your property.”
By morning, I’d hardly slept, jumping at every sound. At 8 a.m., I called a security company. After some pleading, they sent a team to install cameras around my house that same day.
As they worked, I glanced outside and saw Leona pulling up to the driveway again. She greeted me with a serious expression. “The lab results are back. The liquid in the bottle is a corrosive often used to weaken locks. Whoever left this intended to break into your home.”
My stomach twisted. “What about Ravi?” I asked. “Does he know anything?”
Leona advised caution, but just as she spoke, I saw Ravi pulling up to a nearby house. She encouraged me to go speak with him while she stayed on alert.
Ravi looked visibly uneasy as he approached me. “After I parked, I saw two men messing with your trash,” he confessed, eyes darting around. “They didn’t look like they belonged there. I wanted to warn you but was afraid they might still be around.”
Relief washed over me. “That note—you have no idea how much it helped. You may have saved us.”
As Ravi drove off, Leona came back inside. “We’ll catch these people, Nora. Stay vigilant.”
That night, I sat in front of the new security monitor, watching empty streets and quiet yards. While the fear still lingered, I felt a renewed sense of strength, knowing that with unexpected allies like Ravi and Leona, I wasn’t facing this alone. Together, we would face whatever might come next.
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