A Routine Delivery That Felt… Off
It was a quiet Tuesday evening — the kind of ordinary night that gives no hint of what’s coming. We ordered takeout from our favorite restaurant, just as we’d done countless times before.
When Ravi, our regular delivery driver, arrived, something about him seemed different. Normally, he’d greet us with his easy smile and a light joke about how much we ordered. But that night, he barely made eye contact. His face was tense, his voice low.
“Here’s your order,” he said quickly. Then he turned and walked briskly back to his motorcycle without waiting for a tip or a thank you.
That alone was strange enough. But when I picked up the paper bag, I noticed a small note taped to it. The words were hurriedly written in blue ink:
“CHECK YOUR TRASH CAN.”
For a moment, I just stood there, reading the note over and over. My first thought was confusion — maybe it was a mistake? But something in my gut told me to take it seriously.
The Shocking Discovery
I stepped out into the backyard, the porch light flickering in the cool night air. Our trash bin stood near the fence, half full from the weekend.
When I lifted the lid, the smell hit first — and then something metallic caught the light.
Inside were tools — heavy, cold, and wrong. A crowbar, pliers, wire cutters, and a small bottle labeled with a chemical name I didn’t recognize. Later, I would learn it was used to dissolve and weaken metal locks.
My heart dropped. Someone had been preparing to break into our house.
That realization hit like ice water. I called the police immediately, hands shaking as I tried to explain what I’d found.
