I often get food delivered when I’m too beat to cook for the kids. Over time, we got friendly with Ravi, our local delivery guy. He’d always chat with Kai and Isla, give them high-fives before leaving. But last Tuesday night, things were off.
When Ravi showed up, he was super nervous. All fidgety. He shoved the food at me and rushed back to his car without a word.
“What’s with Ravi?” Kai asked, looking out the window.
I shrugged. “No idea, pal. Maybe he’s in a rush.”
As I took the food to the kitchen, still wondering about Ravi, I saw something on the back of the bag. In shaky writing was a note that made me forget all about dinner.
“CHECK YOUR TRASH CAN”
I put the food down and told the kids to wash up. Once they were gone, I dashed to the backyard. The note kept playing in my head as I went for the trash cans. My hands shook as I opened the first one.