Chapter 3

My head buzzed, like a thousand bees were buzzing in my brain.

I understood every word James said, but when he put them together, it sounded like something straight out of a fantasy novel.

My name was on the packages? They magically appeared out of thin air?

Was this some kind of new scam?

Or was May just talking nonsense, maybe losing her mind?

I looked at James, and his face practically screamed, "I don't want to believe it either, but it's true." He really wasn't joking.

"Ms. Dawson, I know this sounds crazy," James said, his voice with a hint of desperation.

"At first, we didn't believe it either. But Mrs. Gardner has been coming to the property office every day, eight times a day, complaining that the packages are driving her insane.

"We sent a security guard to take a look at her apartment..."

James swallowed hard, a flicker of fear in his eyes. "It's true. Her place is almost buried under a mountain of packages.

"Our security guard snapped some photos. Want to take a look?"

He pulled out his phone, glancing at me for approval.

I nodded quietly.

Some absurd curiosity took hold of me. I needed to see what kind of packages could actually drive someone crazy.

James handed me his phone.

On the screen was a photo of an old, run-down living room.

There was no sofa, no coffee table, no TV stand.

Nothing but packages. Packages of every size.

Yellow, white, with all kinds of logos. Stacked from floor to ceiling, like miniature mountains. In the middle, there was barely a gap, just enough for someone to squeeze through sideways.

I zoomed in on the photo and could clearly see the shipping label on one of the packages.

And there it was, bold as day in the recipient field: Claire Dawson.

My heart skipped a beat.

James swiped to the next photo. It was the bedroom. Same thing.

packages had taken over—on the bed, under the bed, crowding every inch in front of the closet.

Next up was the kitchen. The stove was covered in tiny packages, stacked everywhere.

Then came the bathroom. There was even a skinny package sitting right on top of the toilet lid.

I handed the phone back to James without a word.

The bees in my head were gone.

My heart turned to ice.

This was way beyond anything I could wrap my head around. But deep down, I knew this had something to do with me, and those packages May had stolen from me.

"So, what exactly is Mrs. Gardner accusing me of?" I asked, looking up, my voice steady.

James blinked, clearly surprised by how calm I was. "She... She says you must've messed with her somehow. That you're using some kind of witchcraft to get revenge.

"She's demanding that the property management step in.

"She wants you to get all those packages out of her place. If you don't, she's threatening to call the cops and go to the press to blow up the story about our community."

I couldn't help but laugh.

Witchcraft? Revenge? I couldn't believe she actually said that.

She never thought about payback when she was stealing my stuff.

"I'm not going to her place," I said without hesitation. "I didn't buy any of that, and I didn't fill out those shipping labels. None of it has anything to do with me.

"May should deal with whatever's in her house herself."

James's face fell. "Come on, Ms. Dawson, don't be like that.

"Look at the mess... We're really out of options here.

"How about you just go over and take a look? Maybe talk to Mrs. Gardner for a bit?

"Who knows, maybe if you show up, the packages will stop multiplying."

There was a hint of wishful thinking in his voice.

I shook my head. "Mr. Parker, let me make this clear one more time. This has nothing to do with me.

"May was the one who stole over two thousand dollars' worth of my stuff, and she didn't even feel a shred of guilt.

"Whatever's happening in her house now, that's on her.

"If she thinks I'm harassing her, let her call the cops.

"Honestly, I'd like the police to weigh in on this.

"Let's see which one of us is actually harassing the other."

I wasn't backing down.

Seeing that he couldn't change my mind, James let out a long sigh. "Alright, then.

"We'll let Mrs. Gardner know what you said.

"But if she keeps making a scene, there's really nothing more we can do."

I stood up. "Whatever, let her do what she wants."

After that, I turned and left the property management office.

Once I got in my car, I didn't start the engine right away.

I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes.

This whole situation was so bizarre.

But as bizarre as it was, there was a twisted, indescribable sense of satisfaction bubbling up inside me.

May loved stealing my packages, right?

Now, they were coming to her all by themselves, tons more as many, flooding her place from wall to wall.

I'd like to see how long she could keep stealing.