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“Mom? Are you okay?” Isla’s voice startled me. I quickly shut the lid and turned to her with a forced smile.
“I’m fine, sweetie. Just checking something. Go on inside, I’ll be right there.”
As soon as Isla was out of sight, I called the sheriff’s office.
“Sheriff’s Department, this is Leona speaking.”
“Leona, it’s Nora. I need you to come over immediately. I found something disturbing in my trash.”
Leona’s voice turned serious as I described the contents of the can. “Don’t touch anything. I’m on my way. Stay inside with the kids until I get there.”
After hanging up, I couldn’t shake the fear. Our neighborhood had recently experienced a series of break-ins with eerily similar methods—chemicals to weaken locks and meticulous clean-up of evidence. A chilling thought crossed my mind: my house was next on the list.
