Chapter 2 - The Cut HoseAfter that, everything changed. Corinne never admitted doing anything, but strange little incidents started happening.
My trash cans began falling over on collection day. Almost every Thursday, I would place them neatly at the curb before leaving for work. By the time I came home, at least one would be lying on its side. Sometimes garbage was scattered across the street. Sometimes the lid ended up underneath a parked car. Once, I found coffee grounds all over my driveway.
I started tying my trash bags more securely. It didn't help.
Then my garden hose disappeared. I searched everywhere — the garage, behind the shed, around the side of the house. For a moment, I even wondered if I'd loaned it to someone and forgotten. A week later, it mysteriously reappeared beside the outdoor faucet. Cut cleanly in half.
I stood there holding both pieces, staring at Corinne's house. Her blinds were closed. I wanted to march over and confront her. But I didn't, because that had become the pattern. Something happened. I suspected Corinne. And I had absolutely no proof.
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She seemed to know that. Whenever we passed each other outside, she'd smile at me. Not a friendly smile — the kind that made me feel like she knew exactly what I was thinking and enjoyed the fact that I couldn't prove any of it.
I considered installing security cameras but kept putting it off. Part of me wondered if I was becoming paranoid. Another part resented spending money just because my neighbor couldn't behave like an adult.
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