The next day, Dillon went to work.
When I got up, there was no parcel on the coffee table.
I was still uncomfortable. All night long, Dillon slept peacefully beside me, but I didn't get any sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I was reminded of that broken little bird.
Why would someone do that?
I didn't get it. In my mind, Dillon had always been composed and considerate. He was always nice to everyone and never cursed or lost his temper. He displayed no violent tendencies.
Despite my best efforts, I was unable to link him to the anonymous deliveries.
Maybe there was a mistake made by someone. It is possible that he picked up the incorrect package. Why he would lie was still a mystery to me.
I had a lot of crazy thoughts running through my head, then Hailey called and asked if I could have tea in the afternoon.
We met at a recently launched dessert café.
When Hailey saw me, she blinked. "You look terrible." Do you have trouble sleeping since you're pregnant?
I stirred my drink and smiled a little. "It's not because I'm pregnant."
She gave it some thinking. "Did that creepy neighbor send you another package?"
I sighed. "Not him." He's weird, but it wasn't him when I placed a camera at the door.
She asked, "Did you see who left it on the video?"
I was tired, so I rubbed my forehead. "No." Dillon, however, lied to me.
Hailey had a startled expression. "Not a chance." I'm acquainted with Dillon. I do not think he is a freak.
I wanted to believe that, too, but the video made me realize he wasn't as innocent as I had thought.
Hailey wanted me to go to a movie after tea, but I refused. I went home after saying goodbye.
When I reached the fourth story, I halted.
A package that looked exactly like the previous ones arrived at my door.
It had a little bird inside the last time. What would be in this one?
My face went white.
Behind me, I heard footsteps and a low voice say, "Excuse me."
I pivoted. It was the depressed neighbor. I was in the path of the stairs at the time.
I stammered, "Sorry," and stepped aside.
Gently he passed, took a key from his pocket, and opened his door.
"Have you seen anyone leave packages at my door?" I asked impulsively.
His eyes, which had crept out from under his long bangs, paused and turned to me. He said, "Don't you get it?"
Then he returned inside and shut the door.
A wave of coldness passed over me as I stood there for a while. What was he trying to say? How could he know that I believed Dillon was at fault? Was he aware of the contents of the boxes?
I was thinking about a dozen questions. I carried the parcel inside.
For a while, I was afraid to open it. At last, I let out a cry so loud that the scissors I was holding dropped to the ground, narrowly missing my foot.
There was a rat inside, completely skinned, with its blood and raw flesh visible, resembling a nasty smear of meat.
I was far more moved by the sight than by the bird.
After running to the bathroom, I vomited till my stomach felt unpleasant and empty.
I collapsed on the floor, trembling and feeble. Then I retrieved the footage with unsteady hands after remembering the camera.
Frame by frame, the front of my door was empty.
Then a small figure appeared two hours after I arrived home. After walking in a circle while holding something, the individual placed it at my door.
I glanced at the screen. It was a child.