A Note from the Delivery Guy Made Me Install Security Cameras around My House – I’ll Forever Be Grateful to Him

The delivery guy’s scribbled note sent me rushing to my backyard trash cans, where I discovered something chilling. His cryptic warning may have saved my family from a terrifying fate, but the danger was far from over.

I often order food delivery when I’m too tired to cook for my kids. Over time, we grew close to Ravi, the delivery guy in our area. He’d always chat with Kai and Isla, high-fiving them before leaving. But last Tuesday night was different.

A food delivery man saddling up on his motorcycle | Source: Pexels

A food delivery man saddling up on his motorcycle | Source: Pexels

When Ravi arrived, he seemed very nervous. Fidgety. He shoved the food into my hands and bolted back to his car without a word.

“What’s up with Ravi?” Kai asked, peering out the window.

I shrugged, watching Ravi’s tail lights disappear down the street. “No idea, buddy. Maybe he’s in a hurry.”

As I brought the food into the kitchen, still puzzled by Ravi’s behavior, I noticed something on the back of the bag. Scrawled in shaky handwriting was a message that made me forget about dinner entirely.

Helpings of fast food laid out on a table | Source: Pexels

Helpings of fast food laid out on a table | Source: Pexels

“CHECK YOUR TRASH CAN”

I set the food down and turned to my kids. “Hey, why don’t you two go wash up? I’ll get everything ready.”

Once they were out of sight, I bolted to the backyard. The message kept repeating in my head as I approached our trash cans. My hands shook as I lifted the lid of the first one.

A brightly-colored trash can in a backyard | Source: Pexels

A brightly-colored trash can in a backyard | Source: Pexels

Nothing unusual. Just our regular garbage. I moved to the second can, dread building with each step. I threw open the lid and froze.

Inside, wrapped in an old, dirty blanket, was a collection of gloves and what looked like a few small tools. At the bottom sat a bottle without a label, filled with some kind of liquid.

“Mom? Are you okay?” Isla’s voice startled me.

I slammed the lid shut and spun around, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sweetie. Just… checking something. Go on inside, I’ll be right there.”

A woman closing a trash can in a backyard at night | Source: Midjourney

A woman closing a trash can in a backyard at night | Source: Midjourney

As soon as Isla was gone, I pulled out my phone and dialed the sheriff’s office.

“Sheriff’s Department, this is Leona speaking.”

“Leona, it’s Nora. I need you to come over right away. I found something concerning in my trash.”

“Slow down, Nora. What exactly did you find?”

I described the contents of the trash can, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t touch anything,” Leona said, her tone serious. “I’m on my way. Stay inside with your kids until I get there.”

A police officer on a call in a precinct | Source: Midjourney

A police officer on a call in a precinct | Source: Midjourney

I hung up and headed back inside. Our neighborhood had recently experienced a string of break-ins, all with eerily similar methods. Chemicals used to weaken locks, meticulous clean-up of any evidence.

It hit me: my house was being set up for the next break-in.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Kai asked as I entered the kitchen. “You look scared.”

I forced another smile. “Everything’s fine, honey. Let’s eat dinner, okay?”

A woman setting dinner for children at a table | Source: Pexels

A woman setting dinner for children at a table | Source: Pexels

We’d barely started eating when there was a knock at the door. I jumped up, but was relieved when I saw Leona through the peephole.

“Kids, stay here and finish your dinner,” I said, stepping outside to talk to Leona.

She listened intently as I recounted finding the items and Ravi’s strange behavior.

“You did the right thing calling me,” Leona said, her eyes scanning the street. “I’ll take a look at what’s in your trash and get it to the lab. In the meantime, I strongly recommend you beef up your security. Also, we’ll patrol the house all night, so in case they re-tool and still try to break in, we’ll nab them red-handed.”

A police officer smiling | Source: Pexels

A police officer smiling | Source: Pexels

I nodded, already planning my next move. “I’ll call a security company first thing in the morning.”

Leona placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Try to get some rest, Nora. We’ll figure this out.”

But sleep was the last thing on my mind that night. I spent hours researching security systems, jumping at every little sound outside. By morning, I was a jittery mess of caffeine and anxiety.

A woman working on a laptop computer at night | Source: Pexels

A woman working on a laptop computer at night | Source: Pexels

As soon as it hit 8 a.m., I called the first security company on my list. “Hi, I need cameras installed around my house. Today, if possible.”

“Ma’am, our earliest available slot is next week —”

“You don’t understand,” I cut in, my voice cracking. “I think someone’s planning to break into my home. I need those cameras now.”

There must’ve been something in my tone because the receptionist’s voice softened. “Let me see what I can do. Can you hold for a moment?”

A woman on a call in a work environment | Source: Pexels

A woman on a call in a work environment | Source: Pexels

After what felt like an eternity, she came back on the line. “We’ve had a cancellation. Our team can be there in two hours. Will that work?”

I nearly cried with relief. “Yes, thank you. Thank you so much.”

The next few hours were a blur. I called in sick to work, kept the kids home from school, and paced the house until the security team arrived.

A security camera installed on a wall | Source: Pexels

A security camera installed on a wall | Source: Pexels

As they worked, installing cameras and explaining the system to me, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Every car that drove by, every person walking their dog, they all seemed suspicious now.

Just as the security team was finishing up, Leona’s patrol car pulled into my driveway. She got out, her face grim.

“Nora, can we talk inside?”

A parked police patrol vehicle | Source: Pexels

A parked police patrol vehicle | Source: Pexels

My stomach lurched as I led her into the house. “Kids, why don’t you go play in your rooms for a bit?”

Once they were out of earshot, Leona spoke. “The lab results came back on those items we found. The liquid in the bottle? It’s a powerful corrosive, often used to weaken locks.”

I sank onto the couch, my legs suddenly weak. “So it’s true. They were planning to break in.”

Leona nodded. “It looks that way. But Nora, you’ve done everything right. You’ve got cameras now, you’re aware of the threat. We’re increasing patrols in the area too.”

A policewoman discussing something in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A policewoman discussing something in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“What about Ravi?” I asked. “Should I talk to him?”

“If you see him, yes. But be careful. We don’t know if he’s involved or just an observant bystander.”

As if on cue, I spotted Ravi pulling up to my neighbor’s house. “He’s here now,” I said, moving to the window.

Leona joined me. “Go talk to him. I’ll watch from here.”

I stepped outside, my pulse racing. Ravi was just getting back onto his bike when he saw me.

A delivery man astride a motorcycle | Source: Pexels

A delivery man astride a motorcycle | Source: Pexels

“Hey,” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady. “Got a minute?”

Ravi hesitated, then nodded. As he approached, I could see the tension in his shoulders.

“Look,” he said before I could speak, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I should’ve said something, but I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” I asked, though I had a pretty good idea.

A woman having a conversation with someone in a front yard | Source: Midjourney

A woman having a conversation with someone in a front yard | Source: Midjourney

Ravi glanced around nervously. “After I parked, I saw these guys messing with your trash. They looked not good, you know? I wanted to warn you, but I was afraid they might still be around.”

I was so relieved. “That’s why you left the note?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry if I freaked you out. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“Ravi,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “You might have saved my family. Thank you.”

A profile view of a woman talking to someone unseen | Source: Midjourney

A profile view of a woman talking to someone unseen | Source: Midjourney

His shoulders relaxed a bit. “Really? You’re not mad?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. In fact, I owe you big time.”

As Ravi drove away, I felt grateful but also a little afraid. The threat wasn’t over, but at least now I knew we weren’t facing it alone.

Back inside, Leona was on her phone, talking in hushed tones. She hung up as I approached.

“We’ve got some leads based the description Ravi gave us ,” she said. “We’ll catch these guys, Nora. Just stay vigilant.”

A police officer talking on a mobile phone in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A police officer talking on a mobile phone in a living room | Source: Midjourney

That night, after tucking Kai and Isla into bed, I sat in front of the new security monitors. The cameras showed empty streets and quiet yards, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere out there, someone was watching, waiting for their chance.

I thought about Ravi’s quick thinking, Leona’s dedication, and my own newfound strength. Whatever came next, we’d face it together. For now, all I could do was watch and wait, grateful for the unexpected allies who’d helped keep my family safe.

A woman looking aside thoughtfully | Source: Pexels

A woman looking aside thoughtfully | Source: Pexels

What would you have done? If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you about neighbors who installed a camera aimed at a woman’s garden, but she taught them a savage lesson without going to court.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

I Returned Home with My Daughter Only to Find Out My Husband Had Disappeared — the Reason Left Me Speechless

They say life can change in an instant. For me, that instant came on a Tuesday evening when I returned home from the park with my four-year-old daughter to find our apartment eerily quiet and my husband’s closet completely empty.

Have you ever had that feeling where your whole world shifts beneath your feet? Where everything you thought you knew suddenly doesn’t make sense anymore?

That’s exactly how I felt when I found that note from my husband, telling me he’d only return if I fulfilled “one request.”

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

I used to think I had a pretty good handle on my life.

At thirty, I had what most people would consider the whole package. A beautiful daughter, a stable marriage, and a cozy apartment in the city.

Sure, Jordan and I had our moments, like any couple married for six years, but we always worked through them.

I thought my life was going well until that Tuesday evening when my world came crashing down.

A woman standing near a window | Source: Pexels

A woman standing near a window | Source: Pexels

“Mommy, can we go to the park?” Grace asked that afternoon, her big brown eyes pleading with me as she hugged her favorite stuffed rabbit. “Please? I want to show Mr. Hoppy the new swings!”

I smiled, setting aside the pile of laundry I’d been folding. “You know what? That sounds like a perfect idea.”

The park was just a few blocks from our apartment, and Grace chatted the whole way there about her day at daycare.

A black fence in a park | Source: Pexels

A black fence in a park | Source: Pexels

“And then Emma shared her cookies with me at snack time, and Miss Sarah said my drawing was the prettiest!”

“That’s wonderful, sweetie,” I laughed, swinging our joined hands between us. “Was it another unicorn drawing?”

“No, silly! It was our family,” she said. “You and me and Daddy and Mr. Hoppy!”

We spent nearly an hour at the park, Grace conquering the slide at least twenty times before I gave her several final pushes on the swings.

The late afternoon sun was starting to dip when I finally convinced her it was time to head home.

A girl blowing bubbles in a park | Source: Pexels

A girl blowing bubbles in a park | Source: Pexels

“But Mommy, just five more minutes?” she begged.

“Come on, munchkin. We need to start thinking about dinner.”

The first sign something was wrong came when we reached our floor. The door to our apartment was slightly ajar, which was unusual. Jordan was always careful about security.

“Jordan?” I called out as we stepped inside. “Hey, are you home early?”

Silence.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

“Grace, honey, why don’t you go put Mr. Hoppy in your room?” I suggested, trying to keep my voice casual despite the growing unease in my stomach.

Something felt off.

As soon as Grace disappeared down the hall, I headed straight for our bedroom. But the sight that greeted me made my heart stop.

Jordan’s side of the closet was completely empty. His dresser drawers hung open, cleared out. His laptop was gone from his desk, along with the framed photo of us from our honeymoon that usually sat beside it.

A desk in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A desk in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney

My hands were shaking as I noticed the piece of paper on his pillow. The message was brief, written in Jordan’s familiar scrawl.

I will return only if you fulfill ONE REQUEST.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, the note crumpling slightly in my trembling fingers. What was happening?

Jordan and I had argued about him working too much just last week, but we’d made up. Everything had been fine. Normal. Hadn’t it?

“Mommy?” Grace’s small voice came from the doorway. “Where’s all Daddy’s stuff?”

A little girl looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A little girl looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

I quickly stood up and forced a smile.

“Hey sweetie. Daddy… Daddy had to go away for a little while. But it’s okay. We’re okay.”

As I pulled her into a hug, I wondered if I was trying to convince her or myself. Either way, I had a sinking feeling that nothing was really okay at all.

My first instinct was to call Jordan’s cell. With Grace playing in her room, I paced our living room, listening to the rings until his voicemail picked up.

“Jordan, where are you? What’s going on? Please call me back immediately.”

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

I tried messaging him on every social platform we used, but nothing helped. After an hour of silence, I started calling his friends.

“Hey Mike, it’s Kathryn,” I said when his best friend answered. “Have you heard from Jordan today?”

“Kathryn? No, haven’t talked to him since last week’s game night. Everything okay?”

“I… I don’t know. He’s gone. Like, really gone. His clothes, his laptop… everything’s gone, and he left this weird note about coming back if I fulfill some request.”

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

There was a long pause. “What? That doesn’t sound like Jordan at all. Have you called Tom or Steve?”

I called everyone I could think of, but nobody had heard anything.

Finally, with my hands shaking, I dialed his parents’ number.

“Linda? It’s Kathryn,” I tried to keep my voice steady. “Is Jordan with you?”

“Jordan? No, honey. Is something wrong? You sound upset.”

An older woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

An older woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

“He’s… he’s gone. I came home and all his things were gone. He left a note saying he’ll only come back if I fulfill some request, but I don’t know what he wants. I can’t reach him anywhere.”

“What do you mean, gone?” Linda’s voice rose with concern.

“Robert!” I heard her call to Jordan’s father. “Robert, come here. Something’s happened with Jordan.”

“We haven’t heard anything from him,” Robert’s gruff voice came on the line. “This isn’t like him at all. Have you called the police?”

“I… no, not yet. I kept hoping he’d call or come back or…”

A woman talking to her in-laws | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her in-laws | Source: Midjourney

“Call them,” Robert interrupted firmly. “Right now. We’re coming over.”

I ended the call and dialed 911, my voice cracking as I explained the situation. Within thirty minutes, two officers were at our door – Officers Martinez and Chen according to their badges.

“Ma’am, can you tell us exactly what happened?” Officer Martinez asked, notebook in hand.

I recounted everything while Officer Chen examined the apartment.

A close-up shot of an officer's uniform | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of an officer’s uniform | Source: Pexels

Grace had fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from the park and confused by all the commotion.

“And there were no signs of forced entry?” Officer Chen asked.

“No. He must have just… packed up and left while we were at the park.”

“Any recent arguments? Financial troubles? Signs of depression?”

I shook my head. “Nothing unusual. We had a small argument last week about his work hours, but we resolved it. Everything seemed fine.”

A woman talking to a police officer | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to a police officer | Source: Midjourney

They took down all the information, but I could tell from their expressions that there wasn’t much they could do. Jordan was an adult who had left of his own accord.

“We’ll file a missing persons report,” Officer Martinez said gently, “but since there’s no sign of foul play…”

“I understand,” I whispered.

The next three days were a blur. I barely slept, jumping every time my phone buzzed. Jordan’s parents helped with Grace while I made more calls, checked our bank accounts, and tried to piece together any clues I might have missed.

Then came the doorbell on that third day.

A person ringing the doorbell | Source: Pexels

A person ringing the doorbell | Source: Pexels

I rushed to answer it, hope surging in my chest, only to find a plain brown package on our welcome mat.

My heart pounded as I picked it up, already knowing somehow that it was from Jordan.

The package had a DNA test and a letter. I quickly took the letter out and read it.

A close-up shot of a handwritten letter | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a handwritten letter | Source: Pexels

Dear Kathryn

I know this may come as a shock, but I need to know the truth. I’ve always suspected something.

Recently, I was looking through some old college photos of yours, and I saw your best friend from back then. As I looked at the picture, I couldn’t help but notice the striking resemblance between her and Grace. Same hair color, same eyes, same nose.

I started wondering if Grace was not really my daughter.

I’m sorry, but I need you to do a DNA test for Grace. I can’t continue without knowing.

If you send me the results and they confirm I’m her father, I’ll return. If not, I can’t come back.

Please, send the results to the address below.

I couldn’t believe it.

A woman holding a letter | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a letter | Source: Midjourney

Eight years together, and this was what he thought of me? Of our daughter? All because Grace happened to look like my old college friend?

I sat at our kitchen table, staring at that letter until the words blurred.

“You want proof?” I whispered to the empty room. “Fine. You’ll get your proof.”

I went ahead and did the DNA test. Not because Jordan wanted it. Because I wanted to prove how wrong he was.

I quickly took a cheek swab while Grace was sleeping. She barely stirred when I did it. Then, I sealed the sample and sent it for testing.

A woman sitting in her room | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in her room | Source: Midjourney

While we waited for the results, I threw myself into keeping life normal for Grace. But at night, after she was asleep, the anger would come rushing back.

“Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?” Grace asked one morning over breakfast.

I smoothed her hair, fighting back tears. “I’m not sure, sweetie. But you know what? You and me… we’re going to be just fine.”

“Like Emma and her mommy?” she asked, referring to her friend from daycare whose parents had divorced last year.

“Maybe,” I said softly. “We’ll figure it out together.”

A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

When the DNA results finally arrived, I wasn’t even surprised. Of course, Jordan was Grace’s father. I’d never had a single doubt.

But as I held those results in my hands, I realized something important. Proving Jordan wrong wasn’t going to fix what he’d broken.

I sat down at my laptop and began typing.

A woman typing a letter | Source: Pexels

A woman typing a letter | Source: Pexels

Dear Jordan,

Here are your precious DNA results. Congratulations! You’re officially Grace’s biological father. But you know what? It doesn’t matter anymore. A real father wouldn’t abandon his daughter over a paranoid suspicion. A real husband wouldn’t disappear and leave his family in panic. A real man wouldn’t hide behind notes and packages instead of having an actual conversation.

You wanted the truth? Here’s the truth: We don’t need you. I don’t want someone who could throw away eight years of love and trust because our daughter happens to look like my old friend. Grace deserves better than a father who could doubt her very existence. I deserve better than a husband who could think so little of me.

Don’t bother coming back. We’re done.

-Kathryn

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

I sent both the results and my letter to the address he’d provided. Then I blocked his number, called a lawyer, and started the process of filing for divorce.

That evening, as Grace and I sat coloring at the kitchen table, she looked up at me with those innocent eyes and asked, “Are you sad, Mommy?”

I thought about it for a moment.

“No, sweetie,” I replied, realizing it was true. “I’m not sad. Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is say goodbye to something that’s not good for us anymore.”

She nodded sagely, in that way only four-year-olds can, and went back to her coloring.

A child coloring a rainbow | Source: Pexels

A child coloring a rainbow | Source: Pexels

It’s been a week now, and I haven’t heard anything from Jordan. Maybe he’s ashamed. Maybe he’s angry. Maybe he’s relieved.

Honestly, I don’t care anymore. His disappearing act showed me exactly who he was, and his ridiculous demand proved what he thought of me.

Some people might think I’m being too harsh, cutting him out completely. But tell me, what would you do if someone you loved disappeared without a word, put you through days of panic and worry, only to demand a DNA test based on a photo resemblance? Would you take them back? Or would you do what I did and choose your own peace of mind?

All I know is that Grace and I are going to be just fine.

A woman sitting on the floor | Source Midjourney

A woman sitting on the floor | Source Midjourney

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