When I saw the poster with my son Danny’s face, a chill ran down my spine. Little did I know that calling the number would uncover deep-seated secrets and stir emotions, leading to a neighborhood showdown. It was a sunny morning. Danny was playing in the backyard, his laughter filling the air. Tom was making breakfast, and I was enjoying my coffee when I noticed a poster on the oak tree at the corner of our street. It was a photo of Danny with the words “Beware of the Dog!”

beneath it, calling him “dangerous.” I stormed into the house, showing Tom the poster. “This is sick. Who’d do something like this?” he exclaimed. I suspected our neighbor, Helen, who often complained about Danny’s noise. Determined, I called the number on the poster but only reached a voicemail. Furious, I headed to Helen’s house, poster in hand. Helen opened the door, looking annoyed. “Amy, what’s this noise about?” “Did you make this?” I demanded, showing her the poster. Her eyes widened briefly before she composed herself. “I didn’t make that poster.” “Don’t lie, Helen! You’ve always complained about Danny,”