A hurried scribble on a delivery bag sent me racing to my backyard, leading to a disturbing discovery that might have saved my family from something terrifying. The cryptic note from Ravi, our regular delivery guy, hinted at a danger that was still looming, a threat I couldn’t ignore.
As a single mom, I often rely on food delivery when I’m too exhausted to cook for my kids. Over time, Ravi became more than just a familiar face; he was a friend who shared high-fives with my children, Kai and Isla, before heading off. But last Tuesday, something felt off. Ravi arrived looking unusually tense. He handed me our food without a word and hurried back to his car, leaving me puzzled.
“What’s wrong with Ravi?” Kai asked, peering out the window.
“I don’t know, buddy. Maybe he’s in a rush,” I replied, watching his car disappear down the street.
As I set the food on the kitchen counter, still wondering about Ravi’s strange behavior, I noticed something scribbled on the back of the delivery bag. The shaky handwriting caught my attention immediately, and when I read the message, dinner was the last thing on my mind.
“CHECK YOUR TRASH CAN.”
Continued on the next page
Cranberry Walnut Oatmeal Cookies with Lemon Zest
Stuffed Meatloaf on the Stovetop
I brought this to a potluck once, and everyone scrambled to get some
Cheesy Mashed Potato Puffs
Cranberry & Turkey Stuffing Balls
The Symbolism of Ankle Bracelets: Tradition, Style, and Personal Expression
10 DIY Storage Ideas to Organize Your Home ASAP
Former Republican Vice President Dick Cheney says he’ll vote for Harris
Baking Soda and Lemon Water: How to Prepare It Correctly and What Dosage to Use