Chapter 5: The Confrontation

Chapter Five

At that moment, the delivery guy was right outside my door. Even without the phone, I could hear him talking.

His voice was low and cold, making my skin crawl.

"Why are you still here?" I wanted to scream, What do you want? Should I call the cops? But my throat stuck.

I confronted him directly, trying to take control and make him back off.

After a long silence, the driver spoke again, and this time, his voice sounded like he was about to cry.

My fingers gripped the phone so tight they ached. I could hear my own breath, short and shaky, filling the dead space between my words. I tried to keep my voice steady—channeling the confidence I didn’t really feel. The kind of confidence you’d see in a true crime podcast host, not a sleep-deprived young woman in Toledo.