That was when I became suspicious.
Michael installed a doorbell camera. Three days later, I watched Linda walk onto my porch, look around, and carry away my refrigerator filters.
When I confronted her, she denied everything until I showed her the footage.
“I must have thought it was mine,” she said.
“You walked past your house to take it.”
“People make mistakes.”
“Four times?”
She folded her arms. “At your age, Eleanor, you shouldn’t get so worked up over cardboard boxes.”
That hurt more than I expected. Not because she called me old, but because she assumed I was too old to stand up for myself.
So Michael and I made a plan.
We placed a small tracker inside a gift box, sealed it in a package addressed to me, and waited.
