It started like any other night—I was too tired to cook, so I ordered dinner for my kids and me. When our regular delivery guy, Ravi, showed up, something felt off. He barely looked at me, quickly handed over the food, and rushed back to his car without a word. My son Kai noticed it too and asked, “What’s wrong with Ravi?” but I had no answer.
Then I spotted a strange note scribbled on the back of the delivery bag: “CHECK YOUR TRASH CAN.” My heart raced as I sent the kids to wash up and ran outside. The first trash can held nothing unusual, but the second was terrifying—a dirty blanket hid gloves, tools, and a bottle filled with a strange, unlabeled liquid. I felt chills run down my spine.
I called the sheriff immediately, and they warned me not to touch anything and to stay inside with the kids. They later told me the bottle contained a corrosive used to weaken locks and that our home was likely targeted in a string of break-ins. By early morning, I was pleading with a security company to install cameras, and thankfully, they came the same day. The cameras made me feel safer, though I was still shaken.
When Ravi returned, I caught him before he left the neighborhood. Terrified, he confessed, “I saw two guys messing with your trash and didn’t know what to do.” That quick note saved my family. Thanks to Ravi’s courage and the sheriff’s swift response, we avoided a nightmare. I’ve learned to trust my instincts—and never ignore a cryptic warning, even one written on a takeout bag.