When we moved into our new house, we thought we’d found the perfect neighbors in the Johnsons. But after returning from vacation to find our property trashed, I discovered a hidden note that would change everything and force us to question who we could really trust. We moved into our new house a year ago, and everything seemed perfect. The neighborhood was quiet, the house was beautiful, and we were excited to settle in. Our neighbors, the Johnsons, seemed cool too. They welcomed us with a pie and friendly smiles.
“Welcome to the neighborhood!” Jane beamed, holding out a steaming apple pie. Her husband, Tom, stood behind her, grinning and waving. “Thanks so much,” I said, taking the pie. “I’m Emma, and this is my husband Mike.” Mike stepped forward, shaking their hands. “Great to meet you both. We’re really looking forward to living here.” We chatted for a while, and they seemed nice enough. Their house was somewhat run-down, but that didn’t bother us.
