When Ravi, our usual delivery guy, dropped off dinner one night, he seemed nervous and rushed. Later, I noticed a note on the bag: “CHECK YOUR TRASH CAN.” My heart raced as I ran outside. Inside one bin, I found gloves, tools, and a bottle of corrosive liquid.
Shaken, I called the sheriff. Leona arrived quickly and warned me not to touch anything. She confirmed the items matched methods used in recent break-ins. That night, fear kept me awake as I arranged for security cameras to be installed first thing in the morning.
The next day, as the system was being set up, Leona returned with grim news: the liquid was indeed used to weaken locks. Just then, I spotted Ravi nearby and confronted him. He admitted he’d seen suspicious men near my trash and left the note to protect us.
Relief washed over me as I thanked him. “You may have saved my family,” I told him. But even with the cameras up, I knew the threat wasn’t over. Watching the monitors that night, I felt both anxious and grateful—aware that thanks to Ravi, we had a fighting chance.
