I woke up at 3 a.m. to 12 missed calls from my mom and a text that made my blood run cold:
“I got robbed! Come fast!”
I raced to her house in record time. She opened the door in her cardigan, confused and half asleep.
“I didn’t text you,” she said.
When I showed her my phone, the color drained from her face. Without a word, she went inside and returned holding a small black box that had been left on her porch. Inside was a burner phone and a note with three chilling words:
“He’s watching us.”
Over the next few days, things escalated. Her mail was opened. Her porch camera vanished. Someone spray-painted an “X” on her trash bin. One night, I heard her whispering on the phone:
“He came back… She thinks I’m the victim.”....
