I immediately called the sheriff’s office. They told me not to touch anything and to stay inside with the kids. Later, investigators confirmed what I feared—the liquid was a corrosive substance commonly used to weaken locks. Our home had likely been targeted in a string of nearby break-ins.
That night, I didn’t sleep. By morning, I was on the phone begging a security company to install cameras, and thank God, they did it the same day. It helped me breathe a little easier, but I was still shaken.
A few days later, I saw Ravi again and flagged him down before he could leave the neighborhood. He looked nervous. I asked him what had happened that night, and his voice trembled as he confessed, “I saw two guys messing with your trash. I didn’t know what to do, so I left you that note.”
That one small act of bravery—just a few words scrawled on a takeout bag—may have saved my family. I’m grateful to Ravi for trusting his gut, and to the sheriff’s department for acting so fast.
Now, I’ve learned to always trust my instincts… and to never ignore a cryptic warning, no matter how small it seems.