A Mysterious Message
I picked up the receipt with shaky hands. The note was written in blue ink, the strokes deliberate and careful.
“You’re not alone. Be careful. – A Friend.”
My stomach clenched. Was this a joke? A mistake? Or something more?
I glanced at Jamie and Emily, both unaware of my rising anxiety. Jamie was still stacking Legos, completely focused, while Emily had abandoned her yogurt artwork in favor of pulling socks off her tiny feet.
Taking a deep breath, I scanned the bag for more clues—maybe a name, a business card, anything. But there was nothing unusual about it. Just standard takeout containers filled with food I hadn’t ordered.
I hesitated before flipping the receipt over again, as if expecting more words to magically appear. The handwriting wasn’t familiar, but something about it unsettled me.
Who sent this? And what did they mean by be careful?
The Past Comes Knocking
For the past two years, I had worked hard to rebuild my life. When my husband left, he hadn’t just walked away—he had left behind debts I never knew existed, legal battles over custody, and emotional wounds that felt impossible to heal. I had finally found stability, a routine, and some sense of peace. But this note? It felt like a warning, a crack forming in the foundation I had carefully rebuilt.
I grabbed my phone and called the restaurant, hoping to get some answers.
“Lucky Dragon, how can I help you?” a voice answered.
“Yes, hi. I just received an order I didn’t place. It was already paid for, and there was a note inside. I’m trying to figure out who sent it.”
There was a pause before the woman on the phone responded. “What’s the order number?”
I read the number off the receipt. More silence.
“That order was placed online. Paid with a prepaid card. No name, just an address for delivery.”
My stomach tightened. Someone had sent this anonymously.
“Is there any way to trace it?” I asked, hoping for a lead.
“Sorry, ma’am. We only see what the system gives us. Do you want to return the food?”
I hesitated. The food was probably fine. But that wasn’t the point.
“No, it’s okay. Thanks.”
I hung up, feeling no closer to an answer.
An Unsettling Night
I pushed the note aside, trying to convince myself it was nothing. A mix-up. A prank. But the uneasy feeling lingered as I set out plates for dinner.
Jamie dug into the sweet and sour chicken enthusiastically, while Emily made a mess of her fried rice. I picked at my food absentmindedly, my mind stuck on the note.
That night, after the kids were asleep, I double-checked the locks on every door and window. It was something I did every night out of habit, but tonight, I took extra care. I even left the hallway light on.
Lying in bed, I couldn’t shake the paranoia.
What if someone was watching?
What if this was a warning about something I didn’t even see coming?
Sleep didn’t come easily. Every small creak in the house made me jump.
A Second Delivery
The next morning, I tried to shake off the lingering fear. Maybe it had been a well-intentioned gesture from someone who knew I had been struggling. A friend too shy to reach out directly.
But by the afternoon, all of those thoughts disappeared.
At exactly 3:00 PM, my doorbell rang again.
Heart pounding, I peeked through the window. Another delivery driver. Another paper bag.
This time, I didn’t hesitate. I opened the door quickly.
“Let me guess,” I said before he could speak. “Food I didn’t order?”
The young man looked surprised. “Uh, yeah. Paid for in advance. No one’s answering the listed number.”
“Where is it from?”
“Golden Wok. Different place than last time, huh?”
I nodded slowly. Someone was making sure I got these. But why?
I accepted the bag and rushed inside, searching for another note. My fingers trembled as I pulled out the receipt.
Another message.
“Stay alert. He’s not who you think he is.”
My heart nearly stopped.
He?
I read the words over and over, trying to make sense of them. Who were they talking about?
My ex-husband? No. He had moved on. He had a new life, a new family. There was no reason for him to come back into mine.
But what if this wasn’t about him?
A cold chill ran down my spine.
Uncovering the Truth
I spent the next few hours in a haze of anxiety, replaying every interaction from the past few weeks. Was there someone new in my life who couldn’t be trusted?
My co-worker, Daniel, had recently started paying extra attention to me. He always asked about the kids, brought me coffee in the mornings. Had I been too trusting?
Or was it the neighbor who had just moved in next door? He had been friendly, almost too friendly. Always outside at the same time I left for work. Always finding a reason to start a conversation.
The note’s warning echoed in my mind.
He’s not who you think he is.
I needed answers. And I needed to figure out who was sending these messages before it was too late.
The Final Clue
Just as I was about to call a friend for advice, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.
“Check your back door. Don’t let him in.”
A rush of adrenaline shot through me.
I ran to the back door, my hands shaking as I pulled back the curtain.
And that’s when I saw it.
A footprint—half-smudged but fresh—on my back porch.
Someone had been here. Watching. Waiting.
I locked the door immediately and grabbed my phone, dialing 911.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t just a mistake.
Someone was warning me for a reason.
And I was about to find out why.