My neighbor kept blaming delivery mistakes whenever my packages vanished. Then one day, I decided to order one final box and watched exactly where it went.
We hurried outside.
Michael stared at his phone as the little blue dot moved across the map.
“She’s in the backyard.”
“How can you tell?”
“It stopped near the back fence.”
I grabbed my cane.
Michael looked at me.
“Grandma, you’re not going over there.”
“I am absolutely going over there.”
“You’re 80.”
“I’m aware.”
“She steals packages.”
“So far, she hasn’t stolen an old woman.”
He sighed. “Please stay behind me.”
I rolled my eyes but let him go first.
My name is Eleanor. I’m 80 years old, and until Linda moved in next door, I had never once considered putting a tracking device inside my own Amazon order.
I also never expected to spend a Thursday afternoon following my grandson toward a neighbor’s backyard like we were conducting the world’s slowest investigation.
But Linda had tested my patience.
It began with vitamins.
Nothing exciting.
Just the same calcium supplements I’d ordered for years.
Amazon marked them delivered.
I opened my door. Nothing.
I checked beside the planter.
Behind the rocking chair.
Near the garage.
Nothing.
Two days later, Linda knocked.
“Oh, Eleanor! This came to my house by mistake.”
She handed me the package.
My name. My address. Clearly printed.
I said, “That’s odd.”
“These delivery drivers are terrible now.”
She laughed like we were sharing a joke.
Linda had moved in three weeks earlier.
She was probably in her mid-50s.
Friendly in that very fast way some people are friendly before you know anything about them.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
TAP ” READ MORE ” 👇
