My packages kept vanishing, and my sweet neighbor Linda always seemed to “find” them.
I tried to be patient, but when my limited-edition Christmas ornament went missing, I’d had enough.
So, I left her a special holiday gift she’d never forget.
There’s something infuriating about seeing your name on a package and realizing someone else opened it. But when it happens over and over? You start plotting.
I moved to this neighborhood for peace, not package wars.
But thanks to Linda, that’s exactly what I got.
When I moved into this neighborhood three months ago, I thought it was the fresh start I needed. My eight-year-old son Mike and I had been through a lot.
Parting ways with my husband had been hard, but that’s a story for another time.
We found a cozy little house on a quiet street, not too far from a park. It was peaceful, safe, and perfect for us.
Every morning, Mike and I would walk to the park, enjoying the crisp air and the friendly atmosphere.
I remember thinking, This is it. This is where we’ll finally be happy.
And we were. For a while.
The house was great, the neighbors seemed nice, and life was starting to feel normal again.
Until I met Linda.
Linda lives next door, and she seemed lovely at first. The day we moved in, she was at my doorstep with a tray of cookies and that big, neighborly smile you see in holiday commercials.
“Welcome to the neighborhood!” she chirped. “I’m Linda, from next door.
If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you so much!” I said, genuinely touched by her warmth. “It’s been a crazy week, but we’re finally settling in.”
Linda beamed. “Moving is always stressful, but you’ll love it here.
And if you ever need a hand, I’m just a knock away.”
She was chatty and sweet, and I appreciated having someone to talk to in those first few days. She even offered to keep an eye on the house when I was out.
“You know, packages can go missing if they sit out too long,” she mentioned casually. “I’m happy to grab them for you if I see anything on your porch.”
It sounded like a thoughtful gesture at the time.
At first, everything seemed normal.
But then things got weird.
It started with a missing package. An educational toy I’d ordered for Mike. I remember coming home from work and not seeing it on the porch, even though the delivery confirmation said it had been delivered.
Maybe it got delayed, I thought.
But when it didn’t show up the next day, I decided to ask Linda if she’d seen anything.
“Hey, Linda,” I said, knocking on her door.
She answered with that same wide smile.
“Meredith! How are you?”
“I’m good,” I said, a little sheepishly. “I’m wondering, uh, did you happen to see a package on my porch yesterday?
It was a toy for Mike, and it’s gone missing.”
Linda’s expression didn’t falter.
“Oh! That? I think the delivery guy must’ve mixed things up and left it at my door by mistake.” She stepped back into the house and returned with my package.
It was OPENED.
“I just opened it and was wondering who it might be for,” she said with a light laugh, handing it to me.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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